Discovering the Disconnected
by SnowCrazy15
Summary: Stan Marsh is a regular kid in a regular town... well, maybe not a regular town. But in this town he is starting to discover things about himself he thought were impossible. This is a story about discovering sexuality and the consequences of it. *Stenny/Style* *M* *SLASH*
1. Loosin' It

"Dude!"

"I know!"

Stan reached out and grabbed the plastic rectangle that was clutched in Kyle's bony fingers.

"How'd you get it, dude? I always got ID'd."

He ran his hands lovingly over the shiny new Xbox game. It was simply beautiful.

"My mom needed to go into Denver and I had to go with her, but I saw this little corner shop and it was in there! I picked it up, took it to the guy and he totally served me."

Stan looked at his friend with a smile on his lips.

The green hat that Stan had known for years stared at him, along with a slightly freckled face and green eyes. The hat was funny now though because it only just fit Kyle, and his unruly red hair now stuck out in tufts. Stan was surprised that he still wore it. It was a small symbol of their childhood that Kyle was reluctant to let go of. Kinda like Kenny and his damned orange parka.

"Well let's freakin' play dude!" said Stan, getting up from his bed and walking the two strides to his small T.V and his shiny black Xbox.

He put the disc in and handed the second controller to his best friend, who was now sprawled on his stomach across Stan's bed.

Stan huffed and Kyle smiled sweetly in response. Stan pouted before sitting himself on the floor instead.

It was already quarter to eight when Kyle arrived and before they had reached level ten, the bedroom door opened and Stan's mom popped her head around the frame.

"It's almost eleven, Stanley."

"No it's ok, mom. Kyle's gonna stay."

His mom narrowed her eyes at the boys, silently questioning that it was a school night. Stan gave his mom the 'what?' look. Sharon shook her head and looked at Kyle.

"Let your mom know, Kyle."

"OK Mrs Marsh."

Stan saw his mom smile slightly before the door closed behind her with a slight click.

The boys played on the Xbox late into the night, only stopping when they saw the sky lightening. Stan stood up and stretched. His hands almost touched the ceiling. He had gotten so lanky in his maturity. He easily towered over all of his friends, even Kenny.

He pulled his sweatshirt over his head and kicked off his jeans, not even sparing a glance for his friend. They had known each other since they had been born so body issues had never been a problem. There were lines, of course. No weird shit like that. But Kyle was a lot shyer than Stan and chose instead to keep his shirt and jeans on. Stan frowned.

"Dude."

"What?"

"Dude that can't be comfortable," said Stan, looking at the jeans.

Kyle shrugged and kicked back Stan's covers. His friend slipped into the blue sheets without another word, putting his hat on the stand by the bed.

Stan watched as Kyle turned his back to him and pulled the covers over himself. He noted that the boy had scooted up enough so that Stan would be able to get in the bed as well. It was only when he knew Kyle wasn't looking that he let himself shift from foot to foot uneasily.

The idea of sleeping in the same bed was a simple one. Not complicated. At all.

But they were sixteen now. Was it weird?

Stan's mind flashed back four years. Kyle, Kenny, Cartman and himself were pulling an all-nighter at his house and when they finally decided to go to sleep, Stan climbed onto his bed where Kyle was lying and shuffled under the covers. He had looked up to see Cartman frowning at them.

"What?"

"Dude, you're fucking fags."

Stan had looked at Kyle, who mirrored his confused expression, before looking back at Cartman. He saw Kenny watching them with this glassy-eyed expression that always put Stan on edge. Kyle had slowly climbed from the bed and unravelled his sleeping bag.

Cartman had continued to make fag jokes for the rest of the night, but Stan had been uneasy. So weirded-out that he hadn't been able to sleep.

Was that what people thought?

Even now, looking at the empty space behind Kyle, Stan felt weird. He knew that at a certain point, people had to grow up. But there was nothing wrong with being comfortable around a dude that was practically a fucking brother.

Stan crossed his arms, and then uncrossed them.

"Dude, just fucking go to sleep."

Stan frowned at Kyle's hostile tone. It was the tone that he usually reserved for Cartman.

A sudden anger flared up in his chest. What a dick.

He got to his knees and reached under his bed, grabbing at his sleeping bag and then unravelling it by the bed. He yanked a pillow nastily from under Kyle's head and then climbed into the bag with his back to the redhead.

The few hours they had asleep felt like they were gone in a heartbeat. His mom was banging on the door, telling them to get up right now. Stan opened his eyes slowly, feeling the weight of sleep holding them down. He moaned and then yawned. It was only as he moved his head that he felt something touching his hair.

He frowned and looked up to see Kyle's hand embedded in his black mop. He felt the urge to move away, but he didn't. Instead he looked up and the bed and saw half of Kyle's face on the edge of the mattress, his mouth slightly open and curls covering his eye.

He didn't know if it was because he was tired, or that he couldn't see straight, but Stan thought, very briefly, that he kinda liked someone touching his hair.

The thought made him start and he jerked himself out of Kyle's grasp. The violent movement had Kyle sucking in a short breath and rolling over, moaning.

Stan got to his feet and rubbed his face, feeling totally weirded-out again. He felt suddenly so exposed in just his boxers. The room was surprisingly cold.

Before Kyle had sat up, Stan was yanking on the same jeans. He grabbed his deodorant that was sat on his dresser, spraying himself unconditionally, and then rummaging through his draw to find a clean T.

"Dude, can I borrow a shirt?"

Stan looked up and jumped, seeing how close Kyle had got without him noticing. The redhead frowned at him before Stan looked away grumpily. He mumbled something incoherent before chucking another T at Kyle from his draw.

Without another word, Stan stormed from the room.

His mom was making breakfast. He could smell the pop-tarts being toasted and hear the tinny noise of the radio.

He walked into the bright kitchen, yawning. His mom was in her fluffy pink robe and matching slippers, humming along to a song whilst buttering bread. His dad was leaning back in a small chair around a little table, holding a steaming mug and reading the front of his paper.

He wore his usual light blue shirt and dark jeans.

"Morning Stanley," said his mom, passing him a plate with two pop-tarts on.

He sat heavily in a chair and looked at the glistening pastries, smothered in pink icing and oozing jam. He grimaced.

"Oh, morning Kyle," chimed his mom. Stan was suddenly incredibly interested in his pop-tarts, cramming one into his mouth. The heat of the jam burnt his entire mouth, bringing tears to his eyes, but he didn't spit them out. Instead he chocked a little and then reached for the OJ his mom put down for him.

"Don't be a pig, Stan," said his dad half-heartedly.

He saw Kyle sit down in his peripheral vision, but he didn't look up, instead silently pushing the other pop-tart his friend's way.

He saw Kyle make the same face he just had. It made him smile, which sent jam oozing from his mouth. Stan saw Kyle smirk, which made him laugh even more. Crumbs spat across the table, hitting his dad's paper.

The tension drained from his body as the boys laughed stupidly. His parents ignored them, completely used to their strange ways.

The boys ate quickly and then grabbed their backpacks by the door. Stan called bye to his parents, as did Kyle, grabbed their coats and walked out into the crisp morning air.

The small town was already in full swing. Cars sped down the road, mostly being driven by douchebag seniors. The two boys found a rhythm with their conversation, describing in detail how many zombies they had managed to kill the night before. They made their way slowly up the street, watching the other students leaving their homes. The girls were usually together, whereas Butters left his house and walked alone.

Stan watched the blond while Kyle babbled on about the homework that was due on Friday.

"Hey, Butters!"

The blond turned and smiled excitedly when he saw them. Stan smiled, feeling suddenly sorry for the boy. He always got shit from people.

Butters jogged over to them. "Hey fellers!"

Well, he was kind of a fag. His hair was in a tuft on top of his head, and he wore a really tight sweatshirt, and tight pants. He had his backpack over both shoulders rather than slung awesomely over one, like Stan.

But he guessed Butters was OK. He had it rough.

Kyle looked questioningly at Stan before turning to Butters and giving him a quick smile.

"Hey dude."

"Are you walking to the bus? 'Cos I'm going to the bus. We can get the bus together."

Stan saw Kyle frown. "Sure, dude."

"Cartman will be there, though." Butters looked at Stan, the excitement completely wiped from his face.

"O-Oh. OK, I'll uh, I'll get the bus from the main stop. See you later, fellers!"

"Bye Butters," said the boys in unison.

The watched as Butters jogged across the street where a multitude of students were crowded together. Stan could see all their friends there. Token, Jimmy, Bebe, Craig, Clyde, Tweak…

And Wendy.

Stan tilted his head and studied her. She had her straight, raven hair down and it spilled around her shoulders like satin. She didn't have her usual purple cap on, instead adorning fluffy white earmuffs to protect against the cold. She wore tight dark jeans and he couldn't help but stare at that perky ass.

"Dude, you listening?"

"What?"

Stan turned to see Kyle glaring at him. The redhead frowned, glanced over to the crowd and then shrugged.

"What were you saying, dude?"

He shrugged again. "Forget it."

Stan frowned, confused by his friend's behaviour. He rubbed his forehead and then pinched the bridge of his nose. It had been one confusing morning.

They walked quickly past the big group and further up the main road.

He never really knew why they decided to wait at the other stop for the bus. They had done so ever since the third grade. One morning they were doing something, he couldn't even remember what, and they had caught the bus further on. Miss Crabtree had stopped for them, and after that, they just got on the bus there every morning.

The snow lined each side of the black road and the mountains stood tall in the distance. The sky was turning a bluish-grey and it was cold enough that Stan could see his own breath. He could already see Kenny's orange parka by the Stop sign.

"Morning dudes," said Stan. Kenny blinked sleepily at them while Cartman continued to shovel something into his mouth.

"Forgot your second breakfast, fat-ass?" asked Kyle, so nonchalant that Stan giggled.

Cartman frowned, "Fuck you, Jew-boy. At least I don't have a face like a hooker's vag."

"No, but you got enough chins for the four of us."

"Ey! I will kick you in the nuts!"

Stan yawned as their bickering faded from his mind. After so many years of the same shit, he had learned how to block it out. He looked at Kenny.

"Sup, dude?"

Kenny turned his bright blue eyes to Stan. "Nothin', you?"

"Not really. Oh, we got Hayblade yesterday."

"What? No fucking way," snapped Cartman. Kyle gave him a smug smile.

"Yep, and its mine."

Cartman's face took a pink tinge to it as he realised that Kyle would never let him play. He then proceeded to grumble.

They spent the rest of their time with Stan talking to Kenny about Hayblade and Cartman trying to appeal to Kyle's better side. A side that had never faced Cartman.

"Dude this sucks ass."

Stan smiled, although he had to agree.

The grass under his feet was slick from the snow and his muscles were burning from the exercise. Coach barked another order at them, making them pick up the pace as they ran from pitch to pitch, wearing their full football gear.

Their team were in training for the upcoming game against Denver State, and coach was kicking their ass. Usually the training he was doing would piss him off, but it was almost worth it to see Cartman trying to jog up and down the pitch.

He was still a complete fat-ass, but after so many years of playing football, he had become a tank. He was the best _ they had because not only was he fat, but that fat was now solid muscle. He had sent Kenny to hospital one time after a rough tackle. Stan was sometimes glad that he was on Cartman's good side, because that dude could kick some serious ass. Luckily, Cartman wasn't that aware of his own strength and had thus not begun to throw it around. Well, not anymore than usual.

He saw small red curls sticking out from under Kyle's helmet as they jogged side-by-side.

"Again! One two, one two!"

"Dude, I can't keep doing this."

"I know. I think my lungs are going to explode."

Kyle laughed at him.

Stan was surprised that Kyle had continued playing football after fifth grade. He was lanky and bony, with not much to him at all, and he really wasn't into sports. The only game he really watched was basketball.

But their high school didn't have a basketball team, so Kyle tried out for the football team and got in. As did Stan, Cartman and Kenny. It was a good way for them to blow off steam and despite the effort, they enjoyed it. Stan had made quarterback, Cartman to tackle, Kenny linebacker and Kyle stayed as a cornerback.

Stan jogged forward again, but he was getting very close to stopping. He saw his teammates were just as beat as he was. After three hours of training, people needed to sit.

Just as his legs were about to snap, the angels sang.

Well, coach blew the whistle.

The team were running to the showers before coach had even dismissed them. Stan threw his gear into his locker, practically half naked before Kyle had taken off his helmet. He reached into his black gym bag for his towel and wrapped his lower self before taking off the rest of his clothing. The room was silent as the exhaustion washed around them like mist. Stan hovered for a second, his tiredness clearing his mind of further instructions.

"Alright, I'll see you later dudes."

Stan opened his eyes to see Kyle slinging his gear over his shoulder and his bag over the other. He was fully clothed, even wearing his hat, although the sweat was making his curls stick to his face. Stan nodded at him.

It wasn't unusual for Kyle not to shower at school. Although everyone in the team got over that fact, Cartman still had something to say every time.

"What's wrong, Jew? Too much of a fag you can't shower without splooging?"

Cartman laughed at his own terrible joke, but it was half-hearted. Stan smiled at Cartman's face. He knew it was a bad hit, but no one cared. Kyle gently punched Stan's shoulder before leaving the locker room.

Stan yawned before walking slowly into the shower room. The area was made of tiles and cheap shower heads protruded from the wall and the only thing separating them were flimsy half-walls that barely came up to Stan's stomach.

He dragged himself to a cubicle, put his towel over the small wall-thing and turned on the shower. He hissed as freezing water cascaded over his head. He jumped back but kept his hand under the stream until the water became warmer. Finally, he let the water wash over him. He sighed in content, standing hunched and letting the water unravel his sore muscles.

Stan heard the rest of the team shuffling in, and as the heat warmed them, the energy started to come back.

Laughter rippled through the group and Stan smiled as Clyde started telling a dirty joke.

"Uh-oh, don't drop your soap guys."

Stan frowned at Token's remark, and he only understood it when he glanced behind. Kenny stood in the doorway, his blond hair sticking up in all directions. He had a dark towel wrapped around his waist and his white chest bare.

The group laughed but Stan could hear the nervousness behind it.

He watched curiously to see what Kenny would make of the remark. He expected Kenny to get pissed, but then again – it was Kenny.

Kenny raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah dudes don't drop your soap…" he grabbed the towel around his waist and yanked it free, baring his body to all. "Cos I'll fuck you all."

There was a chorus of 'aww dude!' and 'weak!'

Stan chuckled, but he found himself shifting from one foot to another. He turned back to the face the wall, rubbing his head under the water.

He glanced quickly behind him again and saw Kenny walking towards the cubicle next to him. He snapped his head back around, but something moved in his vision, bringing his attention back to Kenny.

Who was now right next to him.

Kenny smiled at him and gave him a wink before turning on his own shower. Stan shifted nervously before rubbing his arms to get the worst of the dirt off. When he was partially clean, he turned off his shower and grabbed his towel, leaving the guys behind and Cartman making some remark about Kenny's only shower of the week.

In the empty locker room, Stan breathed out.

He rubbed his face and sat on the bench, which was a mistake as his muscles decided that they wanted to stay. He decided to give himself a second.

It was hard to be around Kenny sometimes. Especially after… well, after Marshall.

Kenny had always been a strange one. He was normal in most ways, especially with girls and boobs, but one time when they were eight the four of them had gone through a 'metrosexual' stage. They were pretty much straight queers. Yet even after they had gotten over the fad, Kenny had been a little different. He had even confided in Stan once that he thought he was gay.

The idea evaporated of course after Kenny met Tammy Warner. They were together for years, and Kenny had even had sex with her when he was thirteen. But it didn't last, and when he was fourteen, Kenny made a new friend; Marshall Rhode. He was in the year above them, and one of the coolest kids in school. There were rumours however that Marshall was a bisexual.

Kenny had spent almost every waking day with Marshall, completely ignoring the group. After a while though, Kenny suddenly stopped hanging around with him.

Marshall completely blanked him and Kenny had come crawling back.

The three of them had faced him, ready to shun him, but then they saw the look on his face. Kenny had been completely broken.

They had let him back in without a word. Even Cartman didn't rip on him about it.

It took Kenny a long time to get back to himself, but he never told them what had happened. The only clue Stan had been one drunken night a year later; Kenny admitted he had 'broke-up' with Marshall. It was something that could mean anything, but Stan got the feeling it was more.

After that, Kenny had started exploring his options. He had a few girlfriends, a few new guyfriends, and by the time they were fifteen, Kenny admitted he was bi. It didn't come as a shock, but a few people were weird around him for a while. Yet Kenny just took it in his stride and now people seemed to be totally cool with it.

Now it was just who Kenny was. But it still weirded Stan out sometimes. It was usually when he was completely open about it. Stan felt bad about the way he felt, he was no gay-basher, but he couldn't help the way he felt.

He was cool with it. He could deal with it – when it wasn't aimed at him.

"You OK dude?"

Stan jumped at the sudden interruption in his thoughts. He looked up and blinked.

Kenny gave him a lop-sided smile. His hair was flat on his head and it was so long now that it came over his eyes. Stan saw the water still dripping down his face. He felt himself glance down quickly and was relieved to see Kenny had the towel wrapped around him.

Stan smiled quickly. "Yeah, dude."

He got reluctantly to his feet and dressed quickly.

"So 'X' is forty-two?"

Wendy sighed in frustration. She yanked the pencil from his hand and used the eraser to remove the numbers from his notebook. She then again proceeded to explain algebra to him. It was futile because Stan found himself staring at her lips. They were a soft peach and had a small curve to them which made her look lovely even when she wasn't smiling. She had a thin layer of chapstick on them which smelt like peaches.

"And that leaves… Stan? Stan are you even listening to me?"

Her lips had curved into a pout and he found himself smiling. He followed the curve of her jaw up her smooth, pale cheeks until he was looking into her deep blue eyes. Her dark lashes framed them, and being so close he could see the blend of colour inside. They were outlined with a light grey, making them even more striking.

They were lying on their stomachs side-by-side with Stan's homework by their heads. Wendy's bed was small enough that they had to be touching. He didn't mind, her warmth had him feeling so relaxed that he could sleep.

"Stan Marsh!"

He blinked, bringing his concentration back.

"Are you listening to me?"

He smirked. "Always."

She scoffed and sat up angrily. He chuckled, turning and sitting up. She moved to stand up when he reached out and grabbed her hips. He pulled her back onto the bed and wrestled her down, letting his hands run over her sides until she was squealing and laughing.

She lay on her back with her hair splayed around her like a dark halo. He lay on his side, propping himself over her with his elbow.

She pouted at him. "You still have to do your homework."

"It can wait."

He leant down and brushed her lips with his own. She smiled against him before opening her mouth, letting his tongue run gently over hers. Stan breathed her in deeply, loving the way she felt next to him. Her lips tasted like peaches, fruity and vibrant.

He rested his hand gently on her hip and as their kiss deepened, he slowly moved it up, letting it slip under the thin material of her tank.

Her skin was wonderfully soft and as he moved it further, he felt her body arch closer to his. The blood pumped desperately through him, and he felt his erection straining against her jeans. He moaned as her hand touched the exposed skin on his back.

"Stan…" she breathed. He couldn't tell if it was a warning or encouragement.

So he decided to push his luck.

He moved his hand further up until he cupped the tender flesh of her breast. Her breathing hitched but she didn't break the kiss. His mind raced as his thoughts started to become foggy. He moved his hand slowly, gently caressing her, but his lust was driving him.

He lifted his knee and carefully put it on her lap, slowly prying open her legs.

She gasped and their kiss broke. She opened her eyes and he stared down into them, seeing her eyes had clouded over just like his.

"We… we can't…"

He leant down again, covering her lips with his own. She hesitated briefly before wrapping her arms around his shoulders. Stan felt the tension in his body. The urge to part of her legs and lie on her was overwhelming, but he felt something niggling in the back of his mind.

Ever since they were small, Kenny had been their expert sex advisor. He had taught them everything and anything about women, whether they wanted to learn or not, and he knew that pushing sex on Wendy would make her feel trapped.

He also knew that she was a virgin, just as he was. She needed to be stimulated and from what little he knew, it took a lot to get a girl going.

He moved his hand from her boob and gently cupped her cheek. She moaned against his lips and he felt her body move closer to his. His heart hammered against his chest as he let his hand start to drift down her neck, her throat, her wonderful tits, her stomach and awesome hips until they rested on the button of her jeans.

She gasped and her hand grabbed his. Her eyes opened wide with alarm and she pulled away from him.

"Stan!"

"Shh…" he cooed. He leant down to her ear and gently nibbled her lobe. "Trust me."

She didn't let go of his hand but he felt her body relax into the bed again. He let her hold the back of his hand as he carefully popped the button and drew the zip down. Her breathing hitched and she gave him wide-eyes. He kept his eyes on her and let his finger hook around her jeans and panties, touching her soft skin.

She blinked and he saw her body was rigid.

"I can stop."

She swallowed but quickly shook her head. "Be… be gentle."

He smiled and leant down, kissing her sweetly. He moved his hand down confidently but his heart still rapped against his ribcage. He knew he was shaking and the adrenaline was pumping so quickly around his body that his head was swimming.

He felt his hand jerk as the first of her soft curls touched his fingertip.

Their kiss broke but he pushed his hand further until letting one finger slowly slide into the warmth of her centre. She gasped again and closed her eyes. Her hands were digging into his back and he was afraid that he had hurt her. He moved his finger gently up and down, caressing her.

It took a few minutes, but his whole body sang as she breathed out. He felt her body relax on the bed again and her grip loosened on his back.

He continued to rub her, taking longer and longer stroke. She moved slowly, breathing shallow breaths. He didn't think she was enjoying it until she raised her hips and opened her legs, giving him more access. He took the opportunity to slowly move his finger down and down until it slipped into her core.

She gave a small cry which turned into a moan. He smiled, watching the expressions on her face. She kept her eyes closed but her lips parted. She pouted and frowned, but when she bit her lower lip he felt heat rip through him.

He leant his head down to hers and kissed her, but it was nothing like before. He felt her lust against it now. She nipped his lip teasingly, sending a shiver down his spine. He felt his whole body screaming at him. He could feel himself being driven closer and closer to the edge, and he didn't like that idea. He didn't want to become some sex-obsessed freak. He just wanted to show her that she could enjoy his touch. Her hands came up and into his hair. She wrapped it around his tangled mess, gripping it slightly. The jolt of force was like a spark. He pulled away from her front and wrapped his arm around her body.

He sifted his weight until he was kneeling between her legs. She continued to kiss him furiously and he felt himself touching her wherever he could. His hands slipped up her back, pulling up her top.

"Stan… I, I need… I need to feel you."

He groaned, grabbing her top and pulling it up. They parted long enough for him to pull it over her arms. He held her away from him, admiring her lusciously curved body. The strain in his jeans was getting to the point where it was painful. He felt like he was going to explode.

He jumped in surprise as she reached over and grabbed the edge of his T. with surprising force, she pulled it up and over his head, chucking it on the floor.

They came together on their knees. He sucked in a breath and the feel of her skin to his. She was burning, igniting the flame in his blood.

He felt her tugging at his belt. He tied to focus on it. He wanted to make sure she was sure, but she was already pulling his belt open. He slipped his hands easily down her hips, pulling her jeans with him.

He held his breath as he saw her black laced panties.

"Oh, god, Wend…"

"Shush."

She copied his move, pushing down his jeans. Stan leant down and buried his face in the nape of her neck. He couldn't describe what was coming over him but he knew that nothing could sate him now more than Wendy. He moved uneasily as she pushed his jeans down, exposing his boxers. He worried his lower lip as she looked at… him.

He took her chin and made her look into his eyes.

"Wend, we can stop."

She smiled nervously before cupping his face in her hands.

"I'm tired of being scared. I've loved you pretty much all my life and there's no one I trust more."

He leant forward and kissed her again, slowly moving their bodied back down onto the bed. He pulled her jeans off, but not without a struggle. They caught on her socks and he had to wrestle them away. He heard her giggle. It was her nervous giggle.

He felt his stomach churning at what they were doing. Was he really here, lying half naked with his girlfriend? Or was he just dreaming it?

Something brushed his shaft, making his whole body jerk.

"Here," she whispered. He watched as she leant over to her bedside table, pulled open the draw and dug around. Finally she pulled out a shiny blue box. He watched with a smile as she opened it and pulled out a foil square. He saw her hands were trembling as she passed it to him.

"Wendy…"

"Stan. Shut. Up."

And he did.


	2. What Did I Do?

"No. Fucking. Way."

Stan laughed nervously whilst keeping his eyes on the TV. He managed to hit a slice-combo while Cartman repeated his last sentence.

"Dude, you did not fuck Wendy Testaburger."

He smirked before pausing the game and turning his head to face Cartman. The fat-ass was slumped in Stan's huge blue beanbag, holding a huge bag of chips. Kyle sat on the floor with notebooks and textbooks spread around him and his laptop resting on his lap. Stan saw the redhead's attention was focused on whatever he was writing. He lay on his stomach, spread across his bed and Kenny sat with his back against the wall and his legs hanging over Stan's.

He saw Cartman's face flush as he began to spew insults and accusations.

Stan turned his focus back to his Xbox game until Cartman blew off the steam. He knew the lump was just jealous. Kenny had been the whore of the group and that had become normal, but Cartman could take solace in the fact that he wasn't the only virgin. Now Stan had finally lost his virginity, the only person he could take comfort in was Kyle and, well… that made them all feel ill.

Finally, Cartman went quiet. The room was full of the grunts of the dying as Stan went through his game.

It took a while for Cartman to speak again, and when he did, Stan had to strain to hear him.

"What… what was it like?"

Stan chuckled. "It was awesome, dude. Awesome."

Kenny lowered the magazine in his hand before swiping Stan on the back of the head.

"Details, dude. We want details! Does she have a nice wrack? Did she go cowgirl or was it missionary? Did she suck-"

"Dude! She's my girlfriend… and no. She didn't."

The three of them chuckled. Cartman seemed to have forgotten all about his bad mood and now sat forward on his chair. Stan sighed as Kenny swiped him again. He paused his game and sighed, putting the controller on the floor. He turned, making Kenny move his legs. He knew that he wouldn't be able to tell them with a straight face, so instead he put his arms behind his head and looked at his white ceiling.

"We were just foolin' around, you know? Just kissing and stuff. So I thought, 'why not' and, you know… I got to second base and she... well, she really liked it, you know. And then she just… changed. It was like a switch, dude. She was all a sudden confident and she had this voice that just… she drove me fucking mad. Then she was pulling out these condoms and we were naked and…"

"And you totally fucked her sideways right? Tell me she's walking funny."

Stan frowned and turned to Cartman. "Dude, not cool."

But Cartman was on a role. He began to describe in detail what Stan 'really' did to Wendy. Apparently he had turned into a pornstar and was fucking her four ways to Sunday. He let Cartman ramble.

His closed his eyes and thought back to that night. It was now all a blur of black hair, soft skin and blankets. He laughed as Kenny agreed with Cartman. The blond got to his feet and the two started to mimic what Stan had done to her. It ended up with Kenny in some god-awful position and Cartman red in the face form laughter.

Stan looked down, his stomach aching from laughing, and saw Kyle still focused on his laptop. He frowned.

Shouldn't Kyle be happy for him? He was now a man, done the greatest thing a man could do.

"Dude?" Stan gently touched Kyle's shoulder, to which the redhead jumped back so quickly that his laptop hit the floor.

He turned his emerald eyes to Stan, making him flinch.

"Dude, what the fuck?"

Kyle grabbed his laptop from the floor, slammed it shut and began to gather his books.

"If I knew this was what I was coming over for, then I'd have stayed at home," he snapped, shoving his stuff into his backpack.

Cartman and Kenny went still, as did Stan. They all studied Kyle, the shock of his sudden outburst rendering them still.

"Kyle, what…?"

"Well fucking done, Stan! You stuck your dick into your girlfriend! It's not some earth-changing thing!"

Anger washed over him while Kenny and Cartman watched them with wide-eyes. It was the first time he had seen Cartman completely speechless.

"What the fuck is your problem, Kyle? This happens to be important to me!"

Kyle spun on his heel and faced him. He raised his hand, pointing a finger at him. Stan braced himself, ready to face his best friend – for what, he didn't know.

It was only then that he saw the look on Kyle's face.

His pale cheeks were flushed, bringing out the freckles that curled around his bright eyes. His lips were pressed together so hard that they had a white tinge to them. But it was only when he looked into his friend's eyes that he saw them glistening with unshed tears. He saw the anger swelling in them, but there was sadness there, too. He had known Kyle for too long to be fooled by angry front he put on. His friend was sad. Deeply, crushingly sad.

"Kyle…" he breathed, but his friend had already turned.

He stormed from the room, slamming the door so hard that the poster hanging above Stan's TV fell to the floor.

"What the fuck is Jew-boy's problem?"

Stan folded his arms over his chest. "I… don't know."

Kyle ignored him for the better end of three weeks. He tried to talk to him at school, but he avoided him like the plague. Stan tried to find comfort in Wendy, a comfort that ended very _very_ well. But sex didn't take his mind off Kyle.

It was weird not talking to him. They always talked to each other. Sure, they had their falling-outs before, but this felt different somehow.

He had only had the feeling once, when he turned ten and depression took over him. Life had become pointless, everything turned to shit and nothing ever made him happy. Stan had gone to Kenny in those months. They had experimented with a few drugs, drank a bit, stole from shops. Kyle had gotten closer to Cartman, if that was even possible.

It had taken a near-death experience to get himself back to normal, but it had taken a good two years to get his relationship with Kyle close to what it had been.

Now he felt like all that was being sucked down the drain.

"Hey, dude, you OK?"

Stan smiled weakly. "Hey Kenny. Yeah, I'm just… thinking."

Kenny nodded and jumped from the bench Stan sat on to the floor before taking a seat next to him. There was a whistle from the pitch below them and Stan watched as the track team jogged effortlessly in between the white lines. A few other people sat in the stands, talking and laughing. He sighed and rested his chin on his hand, leaning on his leg.

"Kyle talking to you yet?"

Stan shook his head, watching as Kenny unwrapped a foil square. Inside were two pieces of buttered bread, devoid of any filling. As always, the pity Stan fell spiked up, but he tried to push it down. Kenny had made it clear that he wanted no pity from anyone.

"I don't know what I've done, Kenny. Normally I have some idea how I piss him off, but this time? I have no fucking clue."

Kenny bit into his bread, chewing thoughtfully.

"Maybe…" he swallowed "maybe it's not as complicated as you think."

Stan frowned. "What do you mean?"

Kenny shrugged, taking another bite. "I think Kyle's got a lot going on. You just need to give him time, dude."

Stan sighed and sat up. He nodded and grabbed the plastic box sat next to him. He had some chips inside and an apple, but he didn't know how to offer it to Kenny. So instead he put the box back down.

"I gotta get to class dude. Thank you."

Kenny gave him a lop-sided smile, making his bright blue eyes shine.

"No worries, dude. Oh, I've gotta go to Denver on Saturday. Wanna come?"

"Sure, dude. See you tomorrow."

Kenny nodded again, looking out over the pitch as his friend walked away. He curled the foil into a ball and was about to get up to leave when he saw the small, Tupperware box sat on the bench. He opened the lid and smiled to himself. He turned to see the brown jacket disappearing into the school building.

"What's wrong?"

Wendy pulled back slightly, giving him room to breathe. They lay on her now all too familiar sheets, tangled within each other. He had his hand on the soft curve of her back and she on the rim of his jeans. He felt her need, but he just couldn't concentrate.

"I'm sorry, Wendy, I just…"

He sat up, putting his hands over his eyes. He rubbed them furiously, angry at himself for everything. He was so badly frustrated.

As he left Kenny, he had run into Cartman and Kyle. They were talking quietly in the hallway, which was something they hadn't done since…

"Sup, guys?"

Cartman had actually looked briefly uncomfortable before making some excuse, punching Kyle in the arm and walking away.

"Kyle, can we-"

"I gotta go, Stan."

He had pushed past him, catching his shoulder and then storming down the hallway. A few people had noticed before a he caught wind of a remark made by some piss-ass senior.

"Aww, lovers' spat?"

Stan had glared at the guy before storming off in the other direction. He had gone to Wendy's house, hoping to calm down and just relax a little, but he was restless. He was full of confusion which led to frustration, then to anger and then to sadness.

"Wendy, I… I can't stay. I've got a lot of homework to do."

He got to his feet and shoved on his shoes before kissing her quickly and leaving the house.

Stan walked home slowly. He didn't put on his jacket, instead letting the cold blow over him, freezing the anger on his skin. He breathed in deeply until it hurt before releasing the breath in a puff of icy clouds.

He looked up as he passed the dark green building two blocks from his own.

The windows radiated warm light and his eyes instantly sought out one particular window. The same light seeped through the pane and he couldn't help but feel a sense of longing. So many nights had he been in there with Kyle. They would talk about stupid, pointless things, play games, surf the web, do homework or just relax. They were comfortable in each other's company, and it was that easy closeness he didn't want to lose. It had been so hard to get back.

Before he really knew what he was doing, Stan found himself drifting closer to the doorstep.

As his finger hovered over the doorbell, something crashed in the distance. He heard something smash and then a muffled cry. It was accompanied by a loud cry and another loud bang.

He turned towards the source of the noise and his heart dropped to see the broken shack that Kenny and his family lived in.

There was another crash and another cry.

The sounds weren't unfamiliar. If anything, they had gotten worse as Kenny got older. Sometimes it got pretty bad. The cops would be called or they wouldn't, and Kenny would come to school wearing sunglasses and complaining of headaches.

The town tried to drown out the McCormick house and pretend it was nothing but a bad storm that would pass.

Stan turned back to Kyle's front door, but the moment had passed. He shoved his hands in his pockets and put the house behind him. He headed towards his house when another shout drew his attention. He felt himself drifting closer to the house and he could just hear what was being said inside.

"…drunken fuck-head!"

"Don't, you ever, talk to me – like that!"

Another slam, a crash and a sob.

"Don't fucking touch her!" Stan recognised Kenny's voice.

It was accompanied by another crash and slam. He heard a grunt and Mrs McCormick screaming at her husband. He prayed that Karen wasn't home.

"You little shit!"

Suddenly, their front door was wrenched open, spewing light onto their dead lawn. A figure was thrown backwards, landing heavily and it only took a second to recognise Kenny.

He was wearing nothing but his jeans. Mr McCormick loomed into the doorway. He stomped over to Kenny and with one foot, booted him in the stomach.

"Hey!" Stan found himself running to his friend before rational thought came to him.

He charged at Mr McCormick, bowing down and ramming into the man with his shoulder. The two of them flew across the lawn, Mr McCormick landing on his back and Stan catching him heavily. Stan groaned and went to move when a weight crushed down on him. He vaguely saw Mr McCormick's dirty hair before pain exploded across his face, knocking all sense from him.

The weight was thrown off him, but Stan couldn't see. He cradled his face which felt numb while his head still rocked from the force of the blow.

"You gay little shit! You're nothing but a little bitch! You and your faggy little friend!"

"Stew, you bastard!" he recognised Mrs McCormick's voice. "Kenny, take your friend! Take him! GO!"

Stan felt something grab his arms and heave him to his feet. He caught a glimpse of the front door slamming closed and cries coming from inside. He felt himself being heaved forward, but he was still rearing. The sounds from the house began to fade as sights started to become clearer.

He saw his house coming into view.

Strong arms held him and he let himself be led to his front door. The two of them stood by the step as Stan fumbled in his pocket for his keys. He lifted them up but couldn't get them in the door. His hands were trembling from the adrenaline.

"Here, dude. Just… sit."

Kenny's voice was hoarse and shaky. Stan felt himself land heavily on his ass. He winced from the cold but it helped ground him. He put his hand to the side of his face which had grown its own pulse. He felt the heat radiating there and it was swelling like a bitch already.

He sighed and turned his head, only to have his whole body jerk from shock.

"Jesus Christ, Kenny!"

Kenny was leaning on his knees, which were slightly separated so he didn't get the blood that was dripping from his nose on his jeans. His blond hair was sticking out messily and his there were bruises already forming on his pale skin. Stan grabbed Kenny's shoulder and gently turned him to face him.

His stomach was red raw and blood was still running down his nose. Stan's hand flew to his mouth as he saw the bruises, the cuts, the abuse.

Kenny kept his eyes down before turning back into his original position. The blood dripped steadily onto the floor and they sat there until it stopped. Stan felt himself shiver. He pulled off his jacket and put it on Kenny's shoulders.

They got to their feet and Stan quickly kicked dirt over the small pool of blood by the front door. He then rammed his keys into the door and opened it quickly.

He saw the flickering of the TV set as he walked closer into the main room. His mother's head was resting on the sofa arm and Stan breathed a sigh of relief when he saw she was sleeping. The light was off so they managed to sneak through the room easily. He ushered Kenny upstairs before walking past them and into the kitchen.

Moving quickly, Stan wrapped a handful of ice into two tea towels, grabbed the six pack from the fridge, along with a plate of leftover meatloaf. He grabbed the loaf of bread from the cupboard and an unopened bag of chips.

Balancing his stash in his arms, he jogged up the stairs and through his bedroom door. He dropped the stuff on the bed and slowly put one of the towels to his face. He winced before he moaned. The cold washed over his face, making the throbbing slow.

Stan opened his eyes and his heart sank. Kenny stood in the middle of his room, staring at the long mirror attached to the wall. Stan watched as he gently touched the bruise forming on his stomach from his father's kick. He wanted to look away, but he couldn't help but follow Kenny's line of sight. He saw that there were small bruises on his arms, some healing, and some forming. There was a mark around his neck and his right eye was already darkening.

He looked away from the bruises, concentrating instead on Kenny's back. But the more he stared, the more he found himself studying the curves of muscles over his shoulder blades, the long, elegant curve of his back, up and over the muscles of his shoulder and onto his arms.

He felt himself swallow the lump in his throat as a buzzing sensation started in his stomach.

He let his eyes flicker again to the mirror where a pair of sapphire eyes bore into his.

Stan jumped slightly, the weirdness spreading over him. He kept his eyes down as he offered the other towel to his friend. Kenny turned and took it, moving slowly onto the bed where Stan sat.

He didn't know what to say to Kenny, so instead he put down the towel and grabbed the plate of meatloaf. He made himself a quick sandwich and passed the rest of Kenny.

The blond didn't hesitate, shovelling the food into his mouth while Stan passed him one from the pack.

The two of them sat in silence as they ate. Stan took breaks now and then to put the ice to his face, a move which Kenny copied every so often.

When the plate was empty, the two turned to their beers.

They drank easily, quickly.

Stan's eyes grew heavy as he cracked open his third can. They were both leaning against the wall, cradling their beers.

"So… Karen?"

"At her friend's house," croaked Kenny.

Stan nodded. He took another sip of his beer. The frothy liquid was bitter and the bubbles went up his nose, but he could feel himself getting warmer, more relaxed.

"I'm going to kill him, Stan."

Stan frowned and turned to Kenny. His piercing eyes were focused and full of malice.

"What do you mean, dude?"

"I mean that I am going to drive a crowbar so far up his ass that he'll be chewing it."

Stan felt uneasy as hate radiated from his friend. He hesitantly reached over and touched his arm. He patted it gently and was surprised to see Kenny relax. He leant back and sighed, suddenly looking exhausted.

"Wanna go sleep, dude?"

"Mmm, that an invite?" he teased, smiling faintly.

Stan barked a laugh before wincing. He pushed the ice closer to his face. He suddenly felt too awake, too wired.

"I don't know about you, dude, but I want a drink."

Kenny raised his empty beer can in agreement. Stan smirked and got to his feet, walking quickly from his room and down the hallway until he got to his dad's study. He opened the bottom draw of his desk and felt around the back until he gripped the smooth, glass bottle. He had caught his father drinking the whiskey late one night and had promised him that he wouldn't tell his mother. Stan chucked the bottle in the air playfully before kicking the draw shut and walking back into his room.

He knew that his mother didn't know about the whiskey, therefore his father would never mention it and would just buy himself another bottle.

Stan closed his door quietly and then jumped onto the bed. Kenny groaned but soon perked up when he saw the whiskey.

Stan screwed open the top and took a long, deep drink. The alcohol burnt his throat and warmed his whole body, but he loved the feel of it. He didn't really drink, but something about seeing one his best friends being beaten to a pulp had a way of creating the craving.

He pulled it away and coughed, handing it to Kenny who drank just as deeply as he.

They looked at each other and giggled, the events that had happened not half an hour ago already becoming something that settled in their distant memories.

The empty bottle landed on the floor with a slight clink. Stan looked over briefly and then laughed stupidly. His room was spinning and it was getting harder and harder to concentrate.

He lay on his back, stretched out as far as he could.

His hand landed heavily on his chest and he frowned, wondering when he had taken off his shirt. He turned his head and saw Kenny standing in the middle of the room. He was swaying slightly and staring into the mirror again. He could just make out his fingers slowly tracing the bruise.

Stan blinked, trying to look away from his friend, but they way that his fingers wound around the muscles lining his stomach-

"Stan?"

"Hm?" he snapped his head up to look at the ceiling.

"Do… do you think that I'm, that I'm… good-looking?"

Stan chuckled and turned his head. Kenny wasn't facing him just still studying his own reflection. He was about to make a funny remark but as he opened his mouth, he caught a glimpse of Kenny's bright eyes.

"I… uh, I don't know dude. Sure, I guess."

Even though there was dried blood on his face, Kenny still had a good one. He had a strong chin and high cheekbones. He had dark lashes framing deep, azure eyes. Stan couldn't help but think that Kenny could get any girl… or guy that he wanted. He had seen some girls clawing just to get close to him.

Kenny tilted his head thoughtfully and Stan started when he saw that he was staring at him.

"Stan…?"

"Yeah?"

He studied his white ceiling.

"Staaaaaaaaan…?"

"Yeeeeeeeeeeees?"

Suddenly Kenny's face was above his. His whole body jumped with the shock. He was so close that his hair was ticking Stan's skin. He felt his mouth go dry. He opened his mouth to protest when Kenny smirked. It was a look he had seen on his friend's face more than once, especially around Tammy. His eyes seemed to intensify and it was a look that held Stan captive.

"Stanny, is there anything you want to tell me?"

Stan felt his stomach twist. Kenny's voice had suddenly become a lot deeper and somehow… throatier.

"Uh… no?"

Kenny's face became a little closer. He could feel his breath running over his cheek and smell the tinge of whiskey.

"Are you sure?" he purred.

Stan felt himself shift uncomfortably. "I'm sure, dude. You, uh, you're a little close."

"Oh, sorry… this better?"

Stan went rigid. Kenny had moved his entire body onto the bed… over Stan. He had his knees over Stan's hips and was holding himself up with his arms. The weight made Stan inhale sharply.

"Kenny…" he wanted his voice to be firm, to tell his friend that this wasn't funny, but it had come out barely louder than a whisper.

"Now, you see, you must have something to tell me because I'm a little confused. You haven't moved an inch and I'm pretty much on top of you, and that is telling me something."

"Dude… I don't, I'm not…"

"Not…?"

Kenny lowered himself onto his elbows, putting more of his bodyweight on top of him. He inhaled sharply again, the alcohol was making his brain foggy and his thought slow. Kenny gently touched his nose to Stan's. He was so close now that he could smell the deep, earthy scent that was Kenny.

"Do you want to kiss me, Stan?"

His mouth was dry. He couldn't think, couldn't move. Confusion was blinding him. He closed his eyes and tried to breathe but was stopped as something soft touched his lips. His eyes snapped open but all he could think was how awesome it felt to have the weight above him, to have the hair brushing over his cheek.

Before he could think, Kenny opened his mouth slightly. Stan hesitantly moved his lips with Kenny's, following his lead. Kenny's tongue gently touched his own. It was warm and slick and it made him moan.

Kenny's rough hand slowly ran down his side and over his hip. He shuddered as he moved it over his stomach.

As he was about to give into whatever was taking over him, some form of sense smacked him in the gut. He pulled away and gasped, squirming until he was on his feet. He crossed his arms and walked back and forth. He was glad that the only light was coming from the window. He didn't want Kenny to see how flushed he was.

He glanced at the bed and saw Kenny lying on his side, propping his head up with his elbow and watching him. He couldn't see his expression but was sure his eyes were sparkling.

"Dude, this isn't… I'm not… I'm not gay, alright dude?"

"You're not?"

Stan ground his teeth at Kenny's sarcastic tone.

"I am not gay, OK. I'm drunk, you're drunk… let's just, just go to sleep OK?"

Kenny made a gesture with his arm before shuffling up the bed. Stan danced from foot to foot again, wondering whether or not he could get into the bed. He didn't want to sleep on the floor, his head hurt, his face hurt…

Kenny sighed and lay back.

"Alright, dude. Let's just go to sleep."

Stan ground his teeth before quickly getting into the bed. He lay completely still on his back. He could feel Kenny's bare skin against his arm and it made him nervous.

Kenny let out a little laugh before turning onto his side, baring his back to Stan. He stayed completely still for a while until Kenny's even breathing filled the silent room. It was only then that he let his muscles relax. They cried out slightly in protest from being held so long, but soon he was able to turn comfortably to his side.

He had his back to Kenny's and tried to keep as much distance between them as he could. The cold air seeped under the covers from the gap created by their shared covers and after a while it made him shiver.

"Kenny?" he whispered.

There was no answer.

Stan took a breath and slowly wiggled himself closer to the body, letting his back touch Kenny's. The warmth seeped into him and he let out a small sigh of relief before his eyes drifted closed.

In the darkness of the room, no one saw the smile creep across the blond boy's face. A smile that blew away with the lingering night.


	3. Designated Partner

_Tap, tap, tap._

He inhaled sharply, becoming aware of his surroundings.

_Tap, tap, tap_

He rolled his shoulders gently but frowned as they didn't move. He could feel something around him, holding him down.

_Tap, tap, tap._

"The…?"

Stan opened his eyes slowly. He was lying on his back and his white ceiling stared back at him. The tapping was somewhere in the back of his mind, but he was too focused on what was around him.

He carefully moved his head to the side, wincing as something beat his head from the inside.

Kenny was splayed on his stomach with his arm wrapped firmly over Stan's bare chest. He frowned, but didn't move. It was another weird morning. He felt weird.

Kenny's hair was splayed around him messily. Spikes were framing his face, making some kind of dirty blond halo. He could see some dried blood on his face and there was the shadow of what he guessed was a bad bruise. A strand of hair was curled around his eyelashes and Stan had a sudden urge to brush it away.

Instead he sighed and looked back at the ceiling. He didn't move to get Kenny's arm off him.

In truth, he was comfortable. And warm… and comfortable.

It was a strange feeling, sharing a bed. There was no room to move, you couldn't spread out or move whenever you wanted to, but the closeness wasn't _bad. _It was actually kinda nice.

The thought made his heart bounce strangely. He rolled his shoulders again, attempting to wake Kenny without actually _waking_ him.

He frowned again.

Finally, Stan sat himself up quickly. The movement made his head spin and the little dude with a mallet inside his skull began pounding on the bone. Each throb had him sinking lower and lower form the light seeping through his curtains.

Kenny yawned deeply and turned next to him, raising his arms above his head and stretching. Stan tried not to look at the dark purple blotches on Kenny's pale skin.

"Morning, dude," he croaked.

Stan winced at the sound and Kenny must have seen because he smirked at him in a sleepy, lopsided way.

He frowned at Kenny before rubbing his face, attempting to wake himself up. He looked around his room. Somehow they had managed to trash it last night. Empty plates, beer cans, the whiskey bottle, clothing and all sorts of unknowns littered the floor.

He yawned, glad that it was Saturday. He felt Kenny turn in the bed and finally sitting up. He glanced at him and chuckled. His hair stuck out in every known direction and his face looked like a punching bag.

"Dude, you need a shower."

He raised an eyebrow. "That sounds _nice."_

The way he purred made Stan shift uncomfortably. Stan got to his feet, all too aware that he was in nothing but his boxers. He reached down and grabbed the T he had taken off the night before. Then he opened his closet and grabbed a towel from the small pile by his shoes. He smiled as he saw the two familiar Canadian faces staring up at him.

"Here, dude."

He chucked the towel at Kenny, who was now on his feet and stretching. He caught the towel but winced and grabbed the new bruise on his stomach. The bruise that his father had made the night before. Stan turned around and searched his room for something to put the rubbish in. Finally, he found an old paper bag rolled up under his bed.

When he stood up to clean, he saw Kenny was gone and he could just hear the running shower.

He grabbed the cans and the bottle before quickly running downstairs and hiding it at the bottom of the trash can. As he turned around, he saw his mother's fluffy frame walking into the kitchen. She looked half asleep but smiled as she saw him.

Suddenly her face dropped. "Stanley!"

He watched in confusion as she ran to him, staring intently at his face. Her lithe hands gently reached up and poked his left cheek. A shooting pain spread over his face, making him hiss and wince.

"My god, Stanley. What happened?"

"What's wrong?"

She gave him a 'do-you-think-I'm-stupid' before putting her hand on her hip.

He shrugged it off. "Nothing mom. Just a scrap at school."

"Was it that Eric Cartman, again? You know that boy is nothing but trouble. I don't know why you're even friends with him!"

He smiled. "You and me both, mom. I'm going to get dressed. Oh, Kenny stayed over last night."

His mom's face softened as he mentioned Kenny. She nodded knowingly before opening the refrigerator and pulling out a whole pack of bacon, a box of eggs and some pre-made pancake mix.

Stan had the urge to hug her, but he didn't.

Every time Kenny stayed over, his mom always made the biggest breakfast. She'd never admit it, but she felt sorry for the boy and she knew first-hand what poverty was like. Kenny always loved coming to his house because to him, they ate like king's every morning.

He left the kitchen as the sound of sizzling bacon filled the kitchen. He headed back to his room and saw the bathroom door was open He saw steam was drifting into the hallway. Stan felt himself peer slightly around the corner where he caught a glimpse of pale skin in his room. He snapped back around and stomped into the bathroom, now annoyed with himself and craving a ridiculously hot shower.

He locked the door and stripped, turning on the shower as he did so. As the room began to fill with steam again, he started to feel his muscles relaxing.

As Stan walked towards the shower, he caught a glimpse of himself in the clouded mirror. He dragged his hands over the mirror and felt his eyebrows shoot up in shock. His black hair was sticking up awkwardly like it always did. He saw dark blue eyes were red-streaked and there were small circles under them. But it was the deep, dark bruise covering the left side of his jaw and moving up onto his cheekbone that caught his attention.

He let out a quiet laugh. It actually made him look pretty bad-ass.

With a last lingering smirk at himself, he turned and climbed into the shower.

Stan was going to kill Kenny.

The bastard had used up all the hot water so he managed to get his head covered in shampoo before the water turned to ice and he was left at the end of the bathtub, attempting to wipe bubbled from his eyes.

He had to brave the water, to which he did with a very unflattering squeal. He washed his hair out and quickly ran the soap over his skin before jumping out the shower. He shivered before wrapping his body in one of the huge bath towels his mom got from Wal-Mart.

He dried himself quickly, still freezing, before putting on his thin bathrobe.

Kenny was spread on Stan's bed, his controller in the blonde's hand while he played freely on COD. He glared at the boy who was now dressed. He was wearing one of Stan's favourite T's, his own jeans and a pair of Stan's socks.

Stan opened his mouth to make a comment when the boy turned his face upward. Kenny's face looked even worse than he thought. Not only was his left eye bruised, but so was his cheek. He could see some swelling around his nose where it was no doubt broken. Everything he was about to say disappeared from his tongue and instead he turned to his closet.

He grabbed some clothes and then closed the closet door, dressing quickly.

When he emerged, he was wearing dark blue jeans and a light blue T with _Animal_ printed across the front. He had put a long-sleeved chequered shirt on over the top. It was his favourite shirt because it was a mixture of three different blue's and some black thrown in as well. He rolled up his sleeves to the elbow and put on his watch and the beaded bracelet that Wendy had got him for his sixteenth birthday.

"Do you still wanna go to Denver, dude?"

Stan glanced at Kenny, who seemed totally unaware that Stan was in the room. He reached down and grabbed a dirty sock from the floor before launching it at his friend. Kenny kept his bright eyes focused on the screen, but moved his head slightly to the left, avoiding the sock without so much as blinking. Stan shook his head and began to walk around his room, picking up the clothes.

As he walked past his door, the smell of bacon and eggs slammed into him, making his stomach growl.

"Kenny, breakfast is up."

The game was paused and Kenny was on his feet before Stan could put his clothes in the washing bin in the corner of his room. He hated cleaning, but if there wasn't at least a clean spot on his floor big enough for a person to lie in then he didn't get any allowance. It was the only source of income he got, but his dad promised it would stop when he turned seventeen and he would have to get a weekend job. He wasn't looking forward to it, so he tried to milk as much money from them as he could until then.

They walked down the stairs and into the kitchen together. He saw the table was laden with bacon, eggs, toast, cereal, milk, OJ, pancakes and even some poptarts.

His mom was on the phone, stretching the cord across the kitchen as she made coffee.

"Of course, honey… well, it was bound to be hard… I know, honey, I know…"

He could hear Shelly on the other end. She was at college now, in her third year. She was majoring in Veterinary Studies and doing pretty well.

Kenny sat at the table and Stan felt his stomach roll at the look on the boy's face. He studied the food as if it would disappear. He saw the longing in the boy's eyes, but he didn't touch the food. Stan slowly sat next to him and waited. He knew Kenny was waiting for permission from his mom, but she was deep in her conversation. He wanted to tell Kenny to go for it, but last time he had, Kenny looked at him like he was completely insane.

Stan grabbed the hem of his mother's robe and tugged gently. She turned around, mid-sentence. He saw her eyes flit to Kenny slowly, as if in slow-mo. Her face dropped as did the phone, and she brought her hands to her mouth. She stared in open horror at Kenny's face, her eyes shimmering with tears of shock.

He saw Kenny fidget uncomfortably, but he let her stare.

"Oh, honey…" she breathed.

He felt embarrassed as his mom walked over to the blond. She gently touched his face and winced slightly as she brushed his nose. She shook her head and he saw her jaw was set.

"Mom… Shelly's still on the phone."

She nodded again and walked back around to the phone. She put it back to her ear but her voice was deeper now, more upset. She gestured to the boys to eat, which they did with vigour. Kenny didn't seem fazed at all by Stan's mom reaction; he almost seemed used to it. That was sadder in some way.

Stan gave him one last glance before digging into his Fruit Loops.

"That was awesome, thanks Mrs Marsh."

His mom smiled weakly at Kenny before looking back down into her mug of coffee. She had been subdued and quiet while they ate. Now the plates were empty and Kenny leaned back in his chair. He held the slab of meat on his face while draining his glass of OJ.

Stan studied the sad look on his mom's face. He saw glanced at Kenny and saw he was stretching, so he gently patted her hand and sat back as Kenny yawned.

His mom blinked and took another sip of coffee.

"So," she said cheerily, "what are you boys up to today? Going out with your friends?"

"We're going to Denver today," said Stan, just as cheerily.

She nodded her head before glancing quickly at Kenny. Then she turned to the empty plates.

"Well, you two have fun."

As she picked up the plates, Kenny sat up. He put the meat down to help her but she brushed him off.

"It's alright boys. You two go and have some fun."

Stan frowned. Usually his mother was the complete opposite to this, but he knew she was being overly nice for Kenny's sake. He also knew that it would only make her angry if they tried to help, so instead he got to his feet and gestured for Kenny to follow.

They went back to his room where Stan leant him an old pair of his dark blue Converses.

He shoved on his own pair and grabbed his favourite brown leather jacket, his keys, wallet and phone.

"I gotta stop at my place first, dude."

Stan nodded at Kenny. They left the house with a quick goodbye to his mother and stepped into the crisp early afternoon. There wasn't much activity in the street, most people would be in the main town. They walked quickly to Kenny's house.

Stan saw that Kenny was hesitant to go inside, but he grit his teeth and pushed open the front door. The musty smell wafted through the front door and hit Stan with a grimace. He followed his friend into the house, even though it made his face ache.

"Wait here, dude," said Kenny quietly.

Stan nodded and stood in the doorway. Kenny walked quickly through the open room that contained dirty green carpets and walls that were once white. The paper was peeling off in some places and he could even see some mould in the corners. The sofa in the room had been patched multiple times and there was a small TV set that looked like it was from the eighties. Then he realised it probably was.

Three doors led off from the room. He knew the far left one led to his Kenny's parents' bedroom, the middle was their tiny bathroom and the right was Kenny's room. He used to share with his older brother, but Kenny hadn't seen Kevin in about two years. He told them that he called sometimes, but only to ask how Kenny and Karen were. He refused to speak to his parents.

Stan felt the tension in his muscles as he studied the door to Kenny's parents' bedroom.

He jumped as Kenny's door opened and Kenny walked out. Stan smiled as he saw the blond wearing his usual orange parka and brown gloves. He saw Kenny shove something into his pocket before gesturing towards the front door. Stan walked out first before Kenny slammed the front door shut.

Stan winced but didn't say a word as they started up the road and into town.

There were quite a few people walking around, some doing shopping, some kids just pissing around. They made their way to bus stop, talking about nothing in particular. They got a few looks from the bruises on their faces, but for the most part, people just ignored them.

"We have to go see it dude."

Kenny nodded in agreement. "But I don't think it'll be as good as the first one."

Stan shrugged. "Well it's more like the comics, and they were awesome."

"Sure, dude."

They stopped at by the bus sign. Stan looked over the times but was stopped as the bus into Denver pulled up. He smiled at Kenny and climbed aboard. They paid their fare and took a seat at the back. He felt his phone buss in his pocket and pulled it out.

_Sup, fag. Wuu2?_

"Cartman wants to know what we're doing."

Kenny laughed. "Tell him to go fuck himself."

Stan did so. The text he received back was partially unreadable and the rest was just a jumbled of insults. He smiled and put his phone away, completely ignoring the fact that Kyle hadn't text him in over two weeks.

He felt himself sigh inwardly, and clicking the button on his phone, covering the screen in darkness. He didn't see Kenny watching him intently until he put his rough hand on Stan's bare arm, making him jump.

"Don't worry about Kyle, Stan. He'll come around."

Stan frowned, annoyed at Kenny's wimpy tone.

"I'm fine," he hissed, a little more maliciously than he intended. Kenny sighed and sat back, leaving Stan to sulk.

They spent the majority of the ride in silence, until Stan finally broke it.

"I just don't get it dude. What the hell did I do? He just… freaked."

Kenny smiled sadly.

"Stan…" His blue eyes bore into Stan's as if he was willing him to understand Kyle's madness. The blond sighed.

"Just give him some time."

Stan nodded before turning back to his phone. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his headphones, hooked them up to his phone and put bud in his ear. He offered the other to Kenny, who took it without a word.

He turned on shuffle and they both leant back to listen to Stan's music.

"So, what do you wanna do, dude?"

The bus hissed as it pulled away, leaving the two of them stood on the bustling city street. The buildings towered around them as wave after wave of people rushed along the streets. Stan started to move with Kenny, trying to avoid the stares of strangers as they looked over their faces.

Kenny remained silent with his hand in his pocket.

Stan frowned but moved forward without a word. He glanced at his phone and saw that it was quarter past two.

He followed Kenny for a while, entertaining himself with city life. It was completely different from his home town. He was used to seeing a familiar face around every corner, but here there were only strangers. For all he knew, these people would rob him, or even kill him. He knew nothing about this place, didn't know where he was really going. He had been to the city before but mostly with his parents who knew where they were going. Now he was entrusting himself to a boy who looked like he was still half-asleep.

Stan reached forward and grabbed Kenny's arm. He made it look like he was holding him for balance rather than for comfort.

Kenny didn't even look up at him, however. He pulled a piece of paper from him pocket and then glanced up at the street signs.

"Dude, where are we going?" asked Stan as Kenny pulled him around yet another unfamiliar corner.

Kenny sighed. "It's embarrassing."

Stan raised an eyebrow. "The why'd you bring me?"

Kenny groaned and grabbed Stan's arm, yanking him into an empty doorway and out of the way of the marching people on the street.

"I'm going… to the dentist."

"What?" chuckled Stan uneasily.

"Dude, don't laugh."

Stan smiled apologetically. "OK, I'm sorry. What do you man?"

Kenny rolled his shoulders uneasily. Stan couldn't help but smile at him, he had never seen Kenny uncomfortable… about anything.

"Look."

The blond reached into his pocket. He pulled out a whole wad of rolled up dollars. Stan's eyes went wide as he took in how much money must have been there.

"How much is that?"

Kenny shrugged. "About five hundred."

"Where the fuck did you get that, Kenny?"

Kenny's eyes narrowed and he looked mildly insulted.

"I didn't fucking steal it, OK? I saved it."

"You saved it?"

"Yeah, dude," he pouted. Kenny's eyes met the floor and Stan couldn't help but feel bad.

"From what?"

"Everything. I never spend my money, dude. I needed to save it because there was no fucking way my parents were going to look after me. I wasn't even going to spend this, but…"

Stan stepped closer, putting a supportive hand on Kenny's shoulder.

"It's OK, dude. What's up?"

He sighed dramatically. Finally, he turned to Stan and opened his mouth. He pulled his lip down with a finger and Stan glanced briefly inside. He felt himself wince as he saw one of Kenny's back teeth was almost black.

Kenny closed his mouth quickly before gritting his teeth. Stan could see colour flushing his friend's cheeks.

"Why didn't you say something, dude? I could've leant you some money."

Kenny shook his head. "I'm not open for charity," he spat.

The comment felt like a slap, but he let it slide. Wasn't he just a dick to Kenny about Kyle?

"But why come here, dude? Why not just go to Mr Frederick in South Park? He would have given you a discount."

Kenny looked up at him. He felt a jolt of shock go through him at the sadness in his friend's eyes.

"If I went there, my parents would know that I had money. If they knew that, they would take it. Simple. I've been saving since I was eight, Stan. I've never really spent much. This is the most I've used since I started, and I wouldn't have even used it if I wasn't in so much goddamn pain."

Stan felt his stomach twist in sadness. He was completely overwhelmed with the urge to hug his friend. He wanted to tell him that he could move in with him and get away from his fuckwit parents. Instead he patted Kenny's shoulder.

"OK, dude."

They started to move through the streets again and Stan kept his mouth shut. He let Kenny lead him across the roads, around corners and through alleys until they finally stopped outside a posh looking building. It was painted white with high windows and a shiny sign above the door.

_Denver Dentistry._

Stan moved forward when he noticed that Kenny hadn't. He turned around and saw Kenny with his hands in his pockets. He leant forward on his feet and kept his head down so that his blond hair swept over his face.

"Kenny?"

"I fucking hate dentists, dude."

Stan stepped towards him. He put his hands on Kenny's shoulders.

"It's OK."

Kenny frowned and glanced up. Stan couldn't help but see all the colours in Kenny's eyes. He blinked repeatedly before trying to give him an encouraging smile.

"I gotta tell you something, dude. There's another reason I need you here."

"O- oh?"

"Yeah, see, I fucking hate dentists and this is the only place that will put me to sleep so they can take this goddamn tooth out. So you're gonna have to be my designated partner."

Kenny gave him a lop-sided grin and Stan couldn't help but smile back.

"Fine, dude. Let's just get you in there, OK?"

Kenny put his arm around Stan's shoulders and pulled him closer before starting forward into the dentist. Stan frowned but didn't move, letting Kenny take the same comfort that he had similarly sought not minutes before.


	4. Coming Undone

His mobile trilled at him, letting him know that his battery was just about to die. He frowned and pushed the back button, closing the game he was playing. He sighed and sat back, looking around once again at the small waiting room.

The walls were white and the carpet a dark grey. A glass coffee table sat by his knees with a white vase in the middle. It didn't even have a flower.

There were no magazines. The only entertainment he had was looking at the black and white pictures hanging on the wall. The black leather sofa he sat on was quiet comfy though, so that was a bonus. He glanced at his watch, which told him that he had been waiting nearly two hours now.

Another yawn came over him, so big that his jaw clicked.

He sat forward and rubbed his face, wishing he had had more sleep. The alcohol he had drank the night before seemed to be kicking him in the gut and he wanted nothing more than to curl up and die. As he closed his eyes, he felt the images in his head sliding towards a very different part of the night.

To rough hands and steady pressure, soft lips and sweet kisses…

Stan rolled his shoulders and ground his teeth. He wanted to extinguish the heat in his stomach. It just confused him. It just didn't make sense, it just-

"Marsh?"

Stan got instantly to his feet. He saw the receptionist stood in the doorway holding a clipboard. She was wearing a plain black skirt and a white blouse, and he couldn't help but notice the nice wrack she was sporting. He inwardly shook himself.

"Yeah?" He winced at his own weak voice.

"Dr Erison has just finished. Your friend will be out shortly."

She smiled at him professionally and he couldn't help but see her deep brown eyes behind the black rimmed specs.

"Thanks," he said, a little more confidently this time. She bowed her head slightly and then left him standing in the waiting room.

He heard a door open and someone talking quietly before a middle-aged man walked through the doorway with a barely conscious Kenny hanging off his shoulder. Kenny's mouth was obviously swollen and he was swaying dangerously.

The dentist gently led Kenny to Stan, who didn't quiet catch him quick enough. Kenny's body fell forward and Stan had to lunge at him to stop him from falling. He ended up twisting himself awkwardly so that Kenny landed heavily on the sofa. He continued to stare blankly at nothing, looking like he would pass-out at any moment.

"So, uh… everything OK?" asked Stan awkwardly.

The dentist smiled at him, although he was moving to leave.

"Everything was fine. Kenneth now has a perfectly healthy mouth. I had to removed more than one tooth, however, as the rotting had spread further than I first thought… but he should be fine now. Just take him home and put him to bed, he'll be fine if not a little queasy when he wakes up."

Stan nodded, relieved. He turned back to the dentist who was eyeing him strangely.

"Michelle will sort out the paperwork and process the payment… is that alright?"

Stan recognised the look on the dentist's face. He wasn't unfamiliar to that 'are-you-sure-he-can-pay' look. Kenny had to deal with it all the time. Stan narrowed his eyes defensively at the dentist.

"Yeah. Thanks."

The dentist took Stan's snappy words as a sign to leave. He stood for a moment to see if this Michelle would come to him, but she never did. So instead he walked around to Kenny, who was now sleeping, and reached for the wad in his pocket. The boy didn't so much as snort as Stan took the money and walked into the reception.

The reception was pretty much the same as the rest of the building. White, with black decorations and 'modern'… stuff.

The receptionist was typing away at her computer but looked up at him as he approached.

"Uh, I've come to settle up."

"Okie dokie," she said cheerily, typing away at her sleek keyboard again. "Okay, I'm going to have to ask you to confirm your friend's details for me."

"Uh… Kenny – Kenneth McCormick, sixteen, born twelfth November, nineteen ninety-five. A hundred and two Main Street, South Park Colorado. That enough?"

She smiled and nodded, typing furiously over the keys again. He tightened his grip on the money as her eyes ran from side to side.

"OK, the treatment in total with anaesthetic, cleaning and stitching comes to five hundred and twelve dollars, ninety-nine cents."

His eyes widened as the breath caught in his throat. He tightened his grip on the money, wondering how someone could justify charging so much for basic care that everyone deserved. The receptionist's smile faltered at the look on his face. He saw she was panicking over the thought of him not having the money.

With a dry mouth he nodded and pulled out the money.

He saw her eye it suspiciously as Stan started to count it out. The bills were a mixture of all sorts, but he finally managed to give her five hundred and twenty bucks, with only a ten left.

Michelle scooped the money from the side and proceeded to count it all again. When she was satisfied with her counting skills, she clicked on her computer and bent under the desk. He heard the clinging of change, to which she gave him.

"Oh before you go, would you like to buy some mouthwash for your friend? It's antibacterial and some antibiotics in there as well to speed the healing process, keep the teeth free from infection and ease some of the discomfort."

She stood up to a glass shelf on the far wall lined with all sorts of dental concoctions and products. He watched as she bent down and grabbed quite a small brown glass bottle with a medical looking name printed on the front.

"How much is it?" he asked uneasily.

"Twenty nine ninety-five."

"Really? For _that_? Jesus… will it help him? You're not just trying to sell me bullcrap after I've just given you five hundred dollars?"

She gave him a sympathetic smile. "It honestly _will_ help him."

Stan narrowed his eyes before frowning. He reached into his pocket and grabbed his wallet. He took thirty from his forty dollars and chucked it on the counter. She put the bottle in a white plastic bag and handed it to him.

"Thank you," she said sweetly.

"Yeah, yeah," he grumbled, walking into the other room.

Stan shook Kenny lightly at first, but he didn't move. After five minutes of trying, he simply heaved the boy to his feet, bringing back some kind of consciousness. He slipped Kenny's change back into the drugged boy's pants, gaining a stupid smile from Kenny. Michelle handed him Kenny's paperwork as he left. He took it awkwardly as Kenny was hanging off his arm.

They walked slowly through the streets, Kenny acting like a complete drunk and Stan trying to keep him walking straight. They made their way slowly to back to the bus stop where all the seats were taken.

There was an old woman sat clutching her handbag. Stan raised an eyebrow as he saw her outwardly clutch the bag closer to her chest as the two of the approached.

Stan felt his arm shaking from the strain of holding up Kenny, so he went to lean him gently against the plastic stand. Kenny landed heavily, however, shaking the support and gaining disapproving looks from the stand's occupants.

Stan ignored them for the most part. People his age always got evil looks.

"Dude… I feel sick," mumbled Kenny. He rubbed his face heavily before poking himself in the eye. Stan reached forward and grabbed his hands to stop him from hurting himself. Kenny swayed again, looking dangerously pale.

The old woman tisked audibly. Stan glanced at her only to be met with her angry old eyes.

He felt anger stab at him but he ignored her. Kenny moaned and stood up straight, which ended up with him falling forward and Stan having to catch him.

"It's OK, dude. We'll be home soon."

Kenny giggled stupidly. "Coming home with me, Stanley?"

Stan felt heat flush his cheeks as Kenny pulled him closer. Their noses were almost touching and Stan couldn't help but stare into those deep blue eyes.

There was another disgusted sound to his left and he saw the granny openly shaking her head and muttering to herself.

Stan smiled at her sweetly, gaining her attention.

"I know, he's just such a flirt! It's the alcohol that does it to him, you know. Although the heroine makes him dynamite in bed, but unfortunately the unprotected sex has stopped because he's got syphilis you see." He chuckled. "So instead we find our kicks robbing old ladies."

The woman gasped and her face became bright red. Stan continued to smile at her sweetly but he couldn't help notice one of the other's at the bus top, a young black girl, chuckling under her breath. He caught her eye and smiled, shaking his head. She rolled her eyes in understanding. The old lady raised her handbag in outrage before storming off down the street, muttering about 'dirty faggots' and 'disgusting teenagers'.

Kenny wrapped his arms around Stan's waist and put his head on Stan's shoulder. Stan stood awkwardly for a moment before sighing in defeat. He gently rubbed Kenny's back for comfort, knowing that he couldn't look any less gay if he tried.

Finally the bus pulled up. He had to pry Kenny off him to pay their fare. The driver was a burly man with hands bigger than Stan's face. He eyed Kenny up suspiciously.

Stan smiled. "Just been dentist. Here."

He pulled the papers from the bag enough for the driver to see the dentist logo on the letter. He nodded and let them both on without another word. Stan led Kenny down the walkway a few seats away from the back. He put Kenny in first and then sat down himself.

Kenny's presence beside him started to become unbearable after the first hour. He could feel the heat. He tried not think about the night before. He knew they both remembered that kiss, but he was playing ignorant. He knew Kenny was just humouring him. Stan glanced over at him, only to start when he saw McCormick smiling at him stupidly.

"You have pretty eyes, Stanley."

Stan frowned at his drunken speech.

"Thanks... Why don't you try and get some sleep dude?"

Kenny squinted at Stan before nodding slowly. He let out a very unflattering yawn and Stan got a nice glimpse of his new shiny teeth. He also saw the raw stitches where he had his rotten ones taken out. Another wave of pity came over him, and when Kenny lay his head on Stan's shoulder, he didn't resist.

He turned his head to the window and watched as the world flew by. He didn't really mind that Kenny needed him to take him to the dentist, he didn't even care that it took up his Saturday. It was sad though, that Kenny had to go all the way to Denver in the first place. Who couldn't have their teeth checked from fear that their parents would find out? And what kind of life did Kenny live where he had to scrimp and scrape just to save enough for it? Caring for children was what parents should do, and no matter how much they didn't want to work, they should, just to provide for their family.

Stan's thoughts were interrupted as a bunch of kids got on the bus. There were about five of them and he guessed they were about fourteen. His stomach tensed and he found himself trying desperately to ignore them as they clambered arrogantly to the back of the bus.

It was as they passed that Kenny decided to wrap his arm around Stan's stomach and snuffle his face into Stan's neck.

He inwardly groaned, and the laughter coming from the boys told him that they had seen. There was a chorus of "fucking fags" and "fudge-packers" and all other kinds of colourful insults that made Stan knuckles go white.

He glanced at Kenny to see if he had done it on purpose, but the blond was fast asleep.

As the journey ploughed on, the insults only got louder and they started throwing things at Stan and Kenny. He ground his teeth and tried to ignore them, because he knew that if he faced them, he would rip them into shreds. And part of him didn't want to wake Kenny up.

He could ignore them for the most part, but when two of the boys moved from the back to the seats behind them, Stan felt his patience coming to its end.

The bus went over a bump, knocking Kenny forward. Stan carefully put his arm around him to keep him steady, but this only gave the boys more ammunition. The rest of them moved forward, still taunting Stan and Kenny.

"Look guys, just back off," said Stan, his voice dangerously low. But the dumbasses didn't hear the warning behind it.

"What are you going to do, faggot?"

Stan opened his mouth to let out a string of insults when he was thrown forward. The bus came to a screeching halt and the jolt had Stan grabbing Kenny in a tight hug to stop him hitting his head. He mumbled something and his blue eyes opened briefly. He looked into Stan's eyes, pecked him on the lips and then wrapped himself around Stan.

Stan blinked in surprise before a sound ahead of him made him look up. The driver was marching up the walkway with murder in his eyes. Stan instinctively held Kenny tighter, presuming the man was coming at them, when he saw the dark eyes were looking right through him.

Or behind him.

"Now I've put up with some shit in my years as a driver, but never _ever_ have I heard such homophobic remarks come from such young boys! And to be honest, if you weren't so young I would kick all your asses from here to Sunday. But instead I'm only gonna tell you this once. Get the _fuck_ off of my bus!"

Stan stared open-mouthed at the big guy, as did the boys.

Even though it wasn't aimed at him, Stan felt like an ant in the presence of the giant. But it only took the boys a couple of seconds to recover. The leader of the group piped up arrogantly, or stupidly, "You can't make us leave, we paid our fare!"

Stan flinched as the look on the driver's face darkened and his eyes burned with anger.

He lunged forward and grabbed the leader's jacket, yanking him up onto his feet and dragging him down the walkway.

He slammed the button to open the door and pushed the boy out. The boy didn't fall, but he made a big thing about catching his balance. The driver turned on the others. They ran off the bus so quickly that one of them _did_ fall.

Stan laughed at their faces as the driver shut the door on them. He sighed and turned to Stan. The anger was gone and replaced by what he guessed was sympathy.

"You be proud of who you are, boys. Don't let little ass holes like them get to you."

Stan gave the driver a small smile. He looked them both over and smiled back. The driver got back into his seat and carried on towards South Park.

Stan carefully unwrapped Kenny from around his waist as they turned down the familiar road into South Park. He shook the blond but he was completely out of it. It took him the ten minutes to get into town to get Kenny at least semi-conscious. He half-carried, half-dragged him from the bus, but not before the driver gave him a pat on the back.

The activity in the town had died down somewhat so no one noticed as Stan dragged his drugged friend back down the main street and into his house.

Stan couldn't see his mom as he walked through and he guessed she was out.

"Come on dude, you can sleep it off in my room."

Kenny giggled stupidly before coming to a sudden stop. He yanked back, shifting Stan's balance and making him stumble.

Kenny caught him, much to Stan's surprise.

"Will you come with me?"

The blonde's voice had dropped, taking a deep husky tone to it. Stan felt himself swallow the lump in his throat. Kenny was holding him so close that he felt his chest against his own. Stan's heart raced against his ribcage and he was sure that Kenny could feel it.

"Dude…" he breathed and Kenny turned his bright eyes to Stan's.

He was now only slightly swaying and his eyes had lost their glassy look. He knew that Kenny was sobering up and the thought of him being flirty like that annoyed him more than the idea of him being drunk.

"What's wrong?" he purred.

Stan felt his stomach flutter at the sound of the blonde's voice. It was the same deep tone he used when he was Mysterion. He opened his mouth to protest but the words died on his tongue as Kenny's soft lips touched his.

He felt the blood in his veins bubble under his skin. Heat flashed through his body down to his very toes.

Kenny slowly let his hands rest on Stan's hips. The pressure had him sucking in a shocked breath. He felt the alarms ringing in his head, screaming at him that he wasn't gay. He was not gay.

Was. Not. Gay.

He broke the kiss, but Kenny wouldn't let him go. "I'm not gay."

Kenny smiled against his lips. "Of course you're not," he breathed, enveloping Stan's mouth with his own once again.

As Kenny's slick tongue touched his own, he felt his whole body jerk from the sensation. He pulled away forcefully, holding Kenny out at arm's length.

"Dude, I am _not_ gay!"

Kenny gave him a wicked smile. He raised his arms as if in defeat. Stan swallowed again, letting his defences down enough for Kenny to take advantage. The blond stepped back into Stan's personal space. He wrapped one hand on the side of Stan's neck, pulling him down enough so that his warm breath tickled Stan's ear.

"If you're not gay, Stanley, then why are you _hard?"_

Stan sucked in a loud breath as Kenny grabbed his crotch. It was a touch that had a little force behind it but not enough to be painful. Streaks of pleasure shot down his legs as a moan escaped his lips. He felt his mind becoming hazy with lust as Kenny's tongue touched his ear.

Not. Gay.

He wrenched himself so forcefully from Kenny that the blond almost fell flat on his face. He caught himself and cursed loudly.

"The fuck…?"

Stan stepped away from the blond. His mind was racing and his blood felt like it was on fire. It was liquid metal coursing through him. He felt his shaft straining against his jeans, begging for release.

"I am not fucking gay, dude, so stop this bullshit! Just go and sleep this shit off."

He paced quickly back and forth, trying desperately to calm himself down. He risked a glance at Kenny, but he couldn't see his face. He had pulled up his parka, covering his bright blond hair and shadowing his face.

"Sure, dude. You… you know where I am."

Stan stopped dead at the sound of Kenny's voice. He felt his anger fade as Kenny walked shakily away from him and up the flight of stairs. He stood perfectly still until he heard the door click shut.

Pain blared from behind his eyes as frustration ate at him. He ran his fingers through his hair before pacing again.

What the fuck was wrong with him? What the fuck… fuckfuckfuck! Fucking stupid! Stupid! He looked down at his hands and saw them shaking furiously. The anger and confusion overwhelmed him, making him want to laugh and cry. He needed to talk to Kyle.

Kyle would help him.

But Kyle had pretty much disowned him without so much as a word. He grabbed the jacket he had thrown over his sofa and stormed from his house, slamming the door behind him.

"Stan… that was _amazing_."

He smiled as he tried to catch his breath. He wrapped his arms tightly around the lithe figure, bringing the warmth as close to his body as he could. He burrowed his face deep into the thick hair, breathing in the familiar scent of soap and peaches.

Wendy sighed contently, wrapping her luscious body in his, resting her head on his bare chest. The sheets were barely covering their naked bodies, but the heat of their activities still lingered on their skin, so they were anything but cold.

Her raven hair splayed across his chest, ticking his sensitive skin.

Stan felt his muscles beginning to relax. He held Wendy tightly, taking silent comfort in her. Part of him felt bad. He had marched straight to her house and without so much as a 'hello', he had jumped her, knocking all her homework from the bed and completely ravaging her.

Her soft lips gently touched his neck and he felt himself shiver.

They lay in silence for a while, catching their breath.

"You OK, Stan?" she asked, her voice heavy with sleep. He nodded against her head.

"I am now, baby."

She chuckled and settled herself back down. He took her hand and brought it to his lips, ignoring the thought that popped through his head.

_Kenny's hands are stronger._

Stan hung the jacket on the hook slowly. His whole body was heavy. The events of the day had completely exhausted him. He had stayed at Wendy's until the sun started to set and her dad had asked him to leave so they could have dinner.

The lights in the house were off, and walking into the kitchen, he saw a post-it on the fridge.

"_Honey,_

_Your dad's treating me to the Red Lobster tonight. There's money for pizza. _

_Love you. Mom x"_

He saw the twenty on the counter and sighed.

Another night alone.

He didn't care, not really. Ever since he had become old enough not to have a babysitter and Shelly had moved to college, his parents had been living more. Their marriage had been on the rocks for years, so they were taking their twilight years to get to know each other again. It seemed to be working… for the moment.

It would only take another one of his dad's stupid ideas to bring it all crashing down.

But he was just being bitter because he was tired and moody. Grabbing the twenty from the counter, he shoved it in his pocket and walked up the stairs towards his room. As he reached the door, he realised that he hadn't heard from Kenny.

His body went rigid. Kenny could still be in his room.

The thought had him wringing his hands nervously. What would he do? He couldn't go to Wendy's, couldn't go to Kyle's. He could always wake Kenny up and ask him to leave, but what if he…

What if he did… what he did before?

Stan worried his lower lip and decided that he would just take a peek.

He slowly twisted the handle and pushed the door open just a crack. He peered his head slowly through and the sight before him made his stomach sink.

The room was completely empty.

Stan's sheets were pulled up messily and on his bed was the T he leant to Kenny. The socks and shoes were there as well, and the sight had his stomach in knots. He felt his stomach twist with guilt as the image of Kenny walking home shoeless filled his mind. He wrapped his arms around himself, unsure of what to do.

Should he go over there? What would he say?

Was Kenny angry at him?

He sighed. Kenny had only ever really gotten angry at Cartman and only then very briefly.

Stan reached into his pocket and felt his sleek, metallic phone. He pulled it out and pushed the front button, bringing it to life. A picture of Wendy was on the front. She was swinging on the swings at their old school whilst blowing him a kiss. He walked slowly into his room and studied the picture.

She really was beautiful. Her long black hair was always perfectly straight and her deep eyes always so full of intrigue and curiosity.

Stan sat down on his bed and pushed himself back so that he was leaning against the wall. He tapped the screen, bringing up his pictures. He had sorted them out into albums and he had one solely for Wendy. He tapped on the album and began browsing through them. He smiled as he came across one of the both of them. He was holding the camera and they were looking into each other's eyes, their noses just touching. It was a picture that would usually make him barf, but instead he just studied it.

It was only a couple of weeks old.

He wondered if they still looked like that now. He went back to his other albums and scrolled through one labelled 'sk8ing'.

He smiled as the first picture came up. It was the four of them just by the skate park. He had his arm around Kyle and Kyle's arm around Kenny's waist, and Kenny was leaning on Cartman.

They were all smiling stupidly and he wondered where that had gone.

He continued to scroll through them, seeing all the different angles of the four of them pissing around. He stopped as one picture caught his attention. He wasn't holding the phone. It must have been Cartman because Kenny, Kyle and himself were in the picture. They were just by a ramp, the mountains only just visible in the distance. Stan was leaning down to pick up his skateboard further by the ramp. Kyle was stood closer to the camera, glancing behind himself at something. Stan frowned and turned his phone, making the image slightly bigger. He put his thumbs on the screen and dragged them apart, zooming in on Kenny's face.

The blond was sitting down, his orange hood around his shoulders. He saw the Kenny was staring at something very intently. His whole face was completely visible and he was wearing an expression that had Stan frowning.

It was only when he zoomed out that he saw that Kenny was staring at… _him_.

Stan's breath caught in his throat. He went back to the picture of himself and Wendy, examined their faces and then back to the picture. Kenny was wearing the same expression.

Stan chucked his phone on the bed. He got quickly to his feet and began to pace. His mind was racing. What did it mean?

Was – was Kenny in _love_ with him?

He pinched the bridge of his nose as the little man in his brain woke up and began hammering the inside of his skull.

Stan picked up his phone again but this time went into his music. He shoved it onto his docking station, picked a song and then turned it up as high as he could.

The guitar roared from his speakers for a few beats until the beat kicked in and the lyrics played.

"_Keep holding on, when my brain's tick-ing like a bomb, guess the black thoughts have come again to get me…"_

He fell onto the bed, letting the angry beat hammer into his brain.

"_Sweet bitter words, unlike noth-ing I've ever heard, sing along, mockingbird, you don't affect me…"_

Did Kenny really like him? He mostly just thought that it was because Kenny was a ravenous attention whore who loved to tease and fuck with people. But maybe it's something more than he first thought.

"_That's right… deliver it to my heart… please strike… be deliberate…"_

Did he like Kenny? As in like-like?

"_Wait! I'm coming undone – unlaced, I'm coming undone – too late! I'm coming undone. What looks to strong, so de-li-cate."_

How could he? Kenny was one of his oldest friends! And he liked girls! Females!

"_Wait! I'm starting to suffocate! And soon I anticipate, I'm coming undone. What looks so strong, so de-li-cate."_

Stan covered his face with his hands. He felt the pressure in his chest, as if someone was sitting on him. He wanted to scream and cry at the same time. He had been awkward around Kenny for a while, and not because Kenny was bi but because of the way he acted.

Kenny flirted around guys all the time. Hell – the straight guys even played along sometimes! But it made him… uneasy.

He never joined in and got angry when Kenny teased him. He knew that if he just played along, Kenny would stop, but he just couldn't. He didn't even know why.

Was he really just being ignorant?

He couldn't deny that he thought Kenny was attractive. He was a good-looking guy and put up with too much shit for a sixteen year old. He always thought Kenny attractive. But was it something… more?

He grabbed his phone and brought up the picture again. He zoomed in on the blonde's face.

Were all those flirtations real? And did Stan get so annoyed because he _enjoyed _them?

… Was he gay?

"_What looks so strong, so delicate."_


	5. Happy Freakin' Halloween

"Alright class, you all know that Friday is the Halloween Dance and the theme this year is Classical Horror. This means old school things like Dracula and Frankenstein. You also know that anyone caught with alcohol, drugs or to have been taking either of them will be removed from the dance and suspended from school."

The bell echoed through the school, signalling the end of the day. There was a tremendous commotion as students gathered their bags and got to their feet. Stan continued to stare at his open notebook.

"Have a good day," shouted Miss Morelli from above the noise, but no one heard her.

Stan glanced up to see a flash of green and red leave the room without so much as a second glance. He waited again for a flash of orange before finally picking up his books and shoving them in his back pack.

It had been nearly three weeks now since Stan took Kenny to the dentist.

They were talking, but things were weird around them. Kyle was still ignoring him. He had given up trying. People had noticed Kyle hanging around with Bebe and there were rumours they were dating. He wanted to slap his friend on the back and give him a manly high-five, but he couldn't.

Cartman had been dividing his time between Kenny and Stan, but Stan could see the beef-butt was missing Kyle to rip on. He could only call Kenny poor so many times before it got boring.

As he walked from the class, he gave Miss Morelli a wave.

"Stanley, wait a moment. Can you talk?"

Stan nodded and turned around, heading over to his teacher's desk.

"What's up, Miss Morelli?"

The teacher leant back in her chair and looked him over. She was an older lady, maybe about fifty, with curly brown hair and tired but friendly hazel eyes.

"Stan, I noticed that you've been quiet in the last few weeks, and that bruise on your face has just healed up… I haven't heard any rumours about you getting into a fight lately, so is there anything you want to talk about?"

The question sparked all sorts of thoughts in his head.

_Sure Miss Morelli, where do I start? My best friend is pissed at me because I finally fucked my girlfriend, my other friend keeps trying to have sex with me and I'm debating whether or not I like it. Oh, and his dad also socked me in the face. So, no, just a normal week really._

"Everything's fine, Miss Morelli. I just got in a scrap and I've got a lot going on."

She gave him a knowing smile and nodded.

"OK, Stanley. I'm here though, if ever you need anything." He nodded and turned to leave.

"Oh, are you going to the dance?"

He scoffed. "My girlfriend is making me go."

Miss Morelli chuckled. "Who are you going as?"

He sighed. "Van Helsing."

"Very nice. Well, I'll see you tomorrow."

He gave her a small wave and left, feeling weird about the way she spoke to him. She was always a nice lady, and despite what people said, he enjoyed having her as a teacher. She made English bearable.

He slung his ruck sack over his shoulder and walked into the emptying hallway. Stan made his way quickly to his locker, grabbed the books he needed, and then made his way into the school parking lot.

The seniors were getting into their cars while some of them just hung around in cliques.

He caught the eye of the tall Goth kid and nodded respectfully. The Goth kid nodded briefly back at him before turning back to Henrietta and taking another drag of his cigarette.

Stan smiled as he remembered the time he had become a Goth at the age of nine. He hadn't liked the smoking or the coffee, but the style was something he couldn't bash. He got disgusted looks from people, but he couldn't deny he loved the style. He also thought that it kinda suited him.

Now he only rarely wore similar clothing. A pair of skinny jeans here, a black T there.

An idea suddenly occurred to him.

Instead of walking towards the bus stop, Stan made his way left into the main town. He walked quickly, attempting to keep himself warm against the coming cold.

He took a side street and followed the intricate lay out. It was a way he had been shown by the Goths and they would never forgive him if he revealed it. He kept his eyes open and made sure no one was around before slipping through an opening that no one else would notice. He walked out into a small square, surrounded on each side by houses and shops. In the middle of the square was one small shop.

Velvet drapes were slung over the windows and there didn't seem to be any light coming into the shop at all. He made his way slowly towards it and opened the door slightly.

"Hello?"

The interior was dimly lit, as usual, and he could barely make out anything in the mess of the shop. Clothes and trinkets lined every wall, shoes and statues. It was a small haven for every Goth kid in South Park, the only place they bought their clothes and fed their lifestyle.

"Well, well, well… Raven. I haven't seen you in a very long time."

Stan smiled. "Hello, Mole."

The woman before him smiled. She sat behind a barely noticeable counter, her hands full of material. He walked into the room quickly, closing the door behind him and cutting of the light of the sun.

"What brings you here, Raven?"

He chuckled at her use of his old Goth name. "It's not Raven, Mole. You know that."

She waved her hand dismissively. "It suits you better. So again, what's up?"

The woman was quite burly and her face was laden with piercings. Her hair was dyed a deep blue and she wore incredibly dark make-up. She was wearing a tight black corset with a netting overlay. Her hands and wrists were adorned with more leather and skulls, and tattoos wound themselves over her arms.

"I was hoping you could help me, actually."

She raised a perfectly arched eyebrow. "Oh?"

"Yeah, but bear with me OK. So… I need a costume."

Stan rubbed his face, annoyed. He wasn't really going to go out like this, was he? He looked himself over in the mirror again. Damn, he did kinda look awesomely badass.

Friday had arrived quicker than he expected, but he was glad of Mole's help. He looked awesome. Mole had gone all-out for his costume, and she had only charged him thirty bucks for it.

He was wearing tight black jeans and heavy dark brown boots that came about half way up his shin. Over his chest he wore a dark shirt and black leather vest with straps on the sides. What made the look was the long, floor-length leather jacket. It had designs sewn into it and was hand-made by Mole herself. The jacket alone should have been over fifty bucks. He had a belt around his waist to which he had attached his dad's old gun holder. He only had a plastic gun in it, but only the handle showed so it looked good.

The best part of the costume, however, and the part he was most worried about, was sat on his bed. He had borrowed it from his Uncle Jimbo who should never have been allowed to have weapons. But the man was armed to the teeth with anything and everything.

Stan glanced at the bed before turning back to the mirror. He ran his hands through his hair, deciding that there wasn't much he could do with it. Instead he grabbed the hat that was by his feet and put it on.

He smiled. He looked awesome.

They were basing their costumes on the Van Helsing from the movie. Wendy was going to go as Anna Valerious, the woman played by Kate Beckinsale.

She hadn't let him see her costume and he hadn't let her see his.

Stan turned back to the bed and looked at the weapon there. He wasn't even sure that he'd be allowed in there with it. It had been secured with black cable ties and he had no ammunition for it. It was purely just for show. He walked over to his bed and gently touched it.

It was a shiny black and based on old designs. Its wings were folded back neatly and they were lined with just a hint of silver.

It was a truly magnificent weapon, the crossbow.

Stan grabbed the harness that was next the crossbow. He secured it to the weapon like Jimbo had shown him and then pulled the weapon up and onto his shoulders. He wanted to secure it under the jacket but it wouldn't work without ruining the jacket. A jacket that he intended to give back on Sunday.

He turned slowly and looked at himself in the mirror.

Shit, he did look badass.

He chuckled to himself, grabbed his wallet, keys and phone, and started down the stairs.

"Mom, I'm going to the dance!" he called, hurrying towards the door. He had his hand on the handle when his mom's voice rang through the house.

"Wait, honey! Let us see!"

He moaned and his shoulders slouched. He heard his parents rush into the hallway and turned slowly, an irritated expression on his face.

His mom smiled and chuckled, bringing the camera in her hands to her eyes before blinding him with the flash. His dad looked him over with a beer can in his hand.

"You look wonderful, Stanley!" said his mom, taking more pictures.

He stood awkwardly until his mom sated her photographic addiction.

"Don't drink too much," said his dad with a wink. His mom swiped his dad's chest before turning her eye onto her son.

"No drinking, Stan. OK?"

Stan smirked. "Sure mom. I'll be staying at Cartman's, though."

Her lips became taught but she nodded. It had taken her weeks to finally agree to let Stan stay at Cartman's after the dance. The entire town knew by now that Cartman was throwing his own after party, and everyone also knew that Cartman could get his mom to do anything for him. So of course there would be alcohol, and everyone knew this, but they would all be keeping an eye on the Cartman house tonight.

His mom gave him a quick hug, a sneer at the crossbow, and then finally let him leave.

Stan walked quickly across the street. The sun was starting to set and figures were already making their way towards the school. Stan glanced up as he walked past a familiar dark green house, and then looked down as he saw a shadow pass by the window.

He jogged towards Wendy's house and knocked quickly.

Her mother opened the door. Mrs Testaburger was a nice if not weary woman. Wendy looked so much like her mother it was scary. Mrs Testaburger had her short black hair pinned back but was wearing her usual blue sweater and brown skirt.

"Hello, Stanley," she said warmly, moving aside to let him in.

He smiled back and walked into the warmth, standing awkwardly in the porch. He could see Wendy's dad sat on the sofa holding a paper. His bright orange hair was hard to miss.

"Wendy will be right down… can I get you a drink?"

He put his hands in his pockets nervously. "No thanks Mrs Testaburger."

He saw her eye the crossbow suspiciously before walking around him and into the living room. She took a seat next to her husband, leaving Stan alone by the stairs. He rolled from the balls of his feet to the heel. There was a scuffling to his left and he looked up.

His whole body went rigid.

Standing at the top of the stairs was Wendy. But… dear god.

She put her hand on her hip and let him stare.

She was wearing skin-tight black leather trousers, knee high black boots with a heel, a tight black corset with a while shirt underneath. She had a red suede jacket on that was cut just under her breasts, with a wide wrist.

Her long raven hair had been curled and hung around her shoulders in ringlets. Her eyes were dark from make-up and her lips were a deep crimson.

He blinked repeatedly, attempting to catch his breath.

"You look awesome," she said, moving quickly down the stairs.

He grabbed her and pulled her close, forcing his lips onto hers. She squeaked and then laughed against his lips.

She nodded towards her parents who were still sat on the sofa.

Stan shrugged and kissed her again, this time grabbing her ass. Her breath was hot and sweet and he wanted nothing more than to strip her of her entire costume. She pushed herself away and giggled, wiping his lips of her lipstick.

She coughed. "OK mom, dad. We're going now."

They turned. Her father frowned and her mother smiled.

"Have fun, kids."

Wendy grabbed a small black clutch from the desk by the door and took his hand with the other. Together they walked from the house and into the street.

Stan put his arm possessively around her shoulders as they made their way up the road and towards the school.

"Shit, Stan! If that thing fucking real?"

Stan nodded proudly as Clyde ran his hands over the crossbow. They were stood just outside the school. People were milling about as darkness was setting in the sky. Wendy had gone off to find Bebe, who was apparently Morticia from The Adams Family.

Clyde was wrapped in bandages as a mummy, which looked pretty good. Stan laughed at something he was saying when something caught his attention.

He turned around and felt his mouth go dry.

A boy walked towards them. He had bright blond hair that was neatly slicked back. He wore dark a dark grey suit, but it was an old style suit, with a tail and rougher looking fabric. His white shirt was slightly open, giving the eyes a glimpse of skin.

Stan tried to swallow the lump in his throat.

"K – Kenny?" His voice was barely a whisper.

The blond raised his intense blue eyes to Stan before giving him a wicked smile.

"Hey Stan, nice costume… Van Helsing?"

Stan jerked his head in some kind of nodding motion. He saw Kenny give him a knowing smile before opening his arms. For a moment he wondered if he wanted a hug.

"Who am I?"

_Ridiculously hot. Wait. Did I just think that? Fuck._

"Uh…?"

Clyde got to his feet. He studied Kenny with a thoughtful expression. Stan felt himself staring, hoping he didn't look too obvious.

"Dorian Grey."

Stan's attention was ripped from Kenny to the person stood behind him.

Kyle stood awkwardly with his hands in his pocket. Stan smiled despite himself. Kyle always kicked ass when it came to Halloween and costumes. This time was no different. Stan instantly knew who Kyle was.

Kyle also wore a suit, but his was black and completely different to Kenny's. The left half of the suit was pristine, as was half of his hair. The other half, however, was completely fucked up. The right side of his hair stuck up wildly and the suit was torn, dirty and bloodied. He was also wearing make-up on the right side, making his eyes darker. He actually looked quite scary on the right side.

"Dude that is awesome!" said Kenny. He slapped Kyle on the back. Kyle gave him a modest smile before he turned and his face dropped.

"Y – you look, I mean your costume looks awesome Stan."

Stan smiled. "So does yours, Mr Hyde."

Kyle smiled, obviously thrilled that Stan had recognised his costume.

"What's up, bitches!"

They all turned to see Cartman walking up the steps. He saw Kyle hold his breath for a moment and then release it. Every year they dreaded Cartman's costume, ever since he decided to dress as Hitler in fourth grade.

Thankfully the fatass was dressed all in black. He had a cape and a top hat, and Stan saw a fake knife in his belt.

"Who are you supposed to be, Cartman?" asked Clyde.

Cartman frowned and pulled out his knife.

"Isn't it obvious? I'm Jack the Ripper."

"Dude, that is not fucking cool!" shouted Kyle. Cartman spun on to the redhead, looked him over, and laughed.

"Well at least I'm not dressed as a fag!"

Kyle shook his head and turned back to Stan and Kenny.

"Anyway… I'll see you inside guys."

Stan opened his mouth to say something but Kyle already walked away. He felt his chest tighten and his anger flare, but he knew it was pointless. He sighed before noticing a set of blue eyes watching him.

"So, Dorian Grey huh?"

Kenny smiled. "Like it? I thought it suited me, immortality and all."

Stan shook his head at Kenny's joke. "Sure, dude."

He wasn't sure but he thought he saw Kenny's smile falter slightly before the four of them walked into the school.

They made their way to the gym which had been decorated with lame lanterns and decorations. There was a stage at the far back with some guy in a DJ booth who looked like he was having some kind of fit. There was a long table filled with food, to which Cartman nearly jumped on. Kenny laughed with Stan as they made their way through monsters.

Some people had decided not to go with the theme as there were devils and he even saw a bumblebee.

He found Wendy and Bebe, who looked pretty hot in a floor-length black dress, dark make-up and long nails. He put his arms around Wendy, who gave him a kiss. Kenny said hello to Bebe before snaking his arm around her wrist. She frowned but let him hold her. Kenny pulled her close to him, making her giggle. Stan felt a blow to his stomach and his cheeks prickle.

Wendy was saying something to him but he couldn't hear her over the music. Instead he found himself watching as Kenny bent himself into Bebe's ear. There was a ghost of touch as Stan remembered that Kenny had done that to him not a few weeks ago.

"Stan!"

"Hm?"

"Are you even listening to me?"

"What? No. I mean yes! Yeah, of course."

Wendy narrowed her eyes at him. "Then go!"

He gave her a blank look. Wendy grunted in frustration.

"Will you please get me and Bebe a drink?" she asked forcefully.

He smiled. "Sure. Come on Kenny."

Stan reached forward and grabbed the blonde's hair. He felt bad as he yanked Kenny away from Bebe so forcefully that he stumbled.

"Dude! I was totally getting in there!" he protested angrily.

Stan ignored him and made his way over to the buffet table. The punch bowl was in the middle and he guessed it was a mix of OJ and cranberry juice, making it a pinkish colour.

"The girls wanted a drink," declared Stan. He was annoyed at himself for being annoyed.

"What the hell's up your ass, man?" asked Kenny as he grabbed a small sandwich and shoved it into his gullet.

Stan didn't look at him, instead pouring punch into two plastic cups. He took a sip from one of them and then coughed, feeling the burn of strong alcohol in his throat.

His whole body shook as he coughed.

"Dude," he whispered when he could talk. "Someone's spiked the punch."

"Really?" Kenny grabbed a cup and scooped some punch. He drained the cup and licked his lips. Stan couldn't help but see a drop of the punch roll down his chin and over his slender neck, finally stopping on his chest.

He snapped his eyes back to Kenny's face. Kenny gave him a smile which told him there were other meanings behind his words. "This is going to be one hell of a night."

The dance wasn't too bad.

Stan watched as his classmates slowly got more and more inebriated, and it wasn't until Mr Mackey tasted the punch that they realised it had been spiked. But by that time there was only a drop left.

Stan had spotted Kyle now and then, dancing awkwardly or chatting to someone from their class.

He didn't know where they stood. Were they friends anymore? He seemed fine not a couple of hours ago but when he approached him, Kyle made some excuse and ran away. He decided to give up.

"Stan! Come dance!"

Stan was yanked forward by Wendy quiet forcefully. They were playing 'Firework' by Katy Perry and he found himself swaying to the beat. Or just swaying. He had drunk quite a lot of punch.

He spotted Kenny a couple of yards away dancing with Bebe. Well, dancing was probably too mild a word – dry-humping her would have been more appropriate.

He turned away, his cheeks flushed. He still hadn't come to any conclusion about himself. He was still angry and confused. So instead of thinking about it, he grabbed Wendy's hips and yanked her against his body. She gasped and the smiled, raising her hands above her head and moving her body against his.

The heat of the alcohol and Wendy's body had his skin tingling.

He bent down and put his lips to hers, trying to put all the heat, anguish, anger and confusion into it. He was begging her to help him, to understand him. Instead she just kissed him back and then continued to dance without a second glance.

Bebe materialized from the crowd, yelled something at Wendy and the two of them ran off. He was left drowning in his own feelings.

Stan covered his face with his hands and rubbed his eyes. It was getting harder and harder to think.

Suddenly something came up behind him. He thought at first it was Wendy, but the body was too tall… and hard.

"Hey Stan."

The sound was deep and it was right in his ear. He felt himself shiver as the warm breath caressed his earlobe.

"Fuck off, Kenny," he growled. Stan stormed away without even glancing back.

If he had turned, Stan would have seen a very different pair of eyes watching him leave.

He grabbed the bottle by the neck and drank the whiskey neat. People around him cheered and some of them banged on the kitchen counter.

Music blared through Cartman's house, shaking the foundations.

Not long after Stan had left the party, people took it back to Cartman's. He had been on his way home when Token and Jimmy spotted him. They had practically dragged him to Cartman's house, where he proceeded to drink as much alcohol as he could get his hands on.

Wendy and Bebe had shown up not long after, hand-in-hand. Bebe's wig was nowhere to be seen and she was wearing Wendy's jacket.

Stan heard a few of the guy's making remarks about Wendy's awesome bod, but he didn't care. He found himself stumbling through the kitchen, still clutching the bottle before slumping down onto the sofa.

People were everywhere. Dancing. Kissing. He hadn't seen Cartman since they arrived at the dance but he guessed the fat ass was around somewhere.

He brought the bottle to his lips again but before he could drink, someone jumped on the sofa next to him.

"Stan! We're playing a game, wanna join?"

Bebe took the bottle from him and drank deeply before hissing. He raised an eyebrow.

"Why the fuck not?"

He got unsteadily to his feet with Bebe steadying him slightly. They moved through the living room and out into Cartman's backyard.

There was a circle of people on the lawn. He saw Kenny and Cartman were there, along with Wendy, Token, Butters, Clyde, Craig, Kevin, Annie and few other faces that weren't so familiar in his state. He watched as Craig leant forward and spun an empty bottle of Jacks.

"Spin the bottle? Really?"

Bebe chuckled and sat down just as the bottle stopped. It landed on Bebe. The blond laughed and spun it again. When it landed on Wendy, the entire group went up. Stan watched with wide-eyes as his girlfriend crawled across the circle, spouting her magnificent cleavage and then sticking her tongue down Bebe's throat.

The boys cheered again as the girls played on their kiss.

They came apart after a couple of seconds with stupid smiles on their faces. Stan shook his head and sat down between an attractive redheaded girl and Butters.

Wendy took her turn and span the bottle. It landed on Cartman. The fatass chuckled and heaved his bulk forward to spin it. When it landed on the girl next to Stan, he couldn't help but laugh at her expression. The group cheered her on. She reluctantly crawled forward towards a smug looking Cartman. He fisted Token before leaning forward and meeting the girl's lips.

Stan laughed openly as the group hooted and cried at the pair. The girl ripped herself away, wiping her lips as she did so. She settled back next to Stan and he could hear her making gagging noises.

The game got funnier and funnier the more they drank. More people joined in, bringing with them bottles of alcohol. They all decided to change the rule so that if the bottle lands on the same person twice, that person had to have a shot from their stomachs by whoever the other person was, regardless if they were picked first or second.

Kevin span the bottle and it landed on Stan. He chuckled and moved forward uneasily. His whole body seemed to be spinning as he grabbed the bottle and twisted it awkwardly. He sat back with an _umph_. He laughed as it landed on Wendy.

She gave him a glorious smile before leaning down sexily. She crawled forward slowly, letting everyone see how she moved. He shook his head and as she got closer, he grabbed the back of her head.

Their kiss was drunken and passionate, and made everyone uncomfortable.

Finally she pulled away, but not before brushing his nose with hers.

"I love you," she breathed. Stan smiled before she crawled back to her space.

Stan laughed at their comments before leaning forward and spinning the bottle again. He leant back and took the drink being offered to him by the redhead.

Suddenly, the group went up in cheers. Stan frowned and looked down, only to moan and pinch the bridge of his nose. The bottle was pointing at him.

"Shot! Shot! Shot!"

He rubbed his face before leaning down hesitantly. He grabbed the bottle and span it, watching it nervously. As it stopped, Stan felt his heart hit his ass. His mouth went dry and he'd never craved the earth to eat him more.

Blue eyes watched him steadily.

_Fuck no. Please no._

"No fucking way!"

Their friends roared as the bottle pointed to Mr Grey. Stan didn't register what was happening until he was being forced onto his back. People laughed as they tore open his clothes and he was lying with his chest bare.

He saw Bebe laughing as she stood over him, pouring tequila into a small shot glass. She missed some, making the liquid drip onto and down his pale skin.

Stan felt his breathing become ragged as Bebe placed the shot just over his belly button.

Drunken cries and laughter followed as Bebe moved out of the way. Stan closed his eyes, unwilling to watch. The weight of the shot wasn't instantly taken away like he expected. Instead he felt something slick and warm run over his hip and onto his stomach. He knew what it was and the thought made him shudder.

Heat flashed through him as the tongue ran over his skin. Finally he felt the weight of the shot being lifted and he opened his eyes to see Kenny with his head back and the glass sticking from his mouth. He knocked it back before grabbing it and holding up his arms. The crowd around them cheered stupidly. Stan was about to move when those piercing blue eyes caught his.

Suddenly Kenny was leaning down. He could smell smoke and whiskey on his breath, could feel the warmth. His soft lips slowly touched Stan's, making his stomach dance. He felt Kenny slowly ease open his mouth. The sounds around them fell away and Stan found himself kissing him back.

All too soon Kenny pulled away.

The crowd cheered and Stan was helped up. He blinked but couldn't focus. The world around him was spinning. Anger spread through him, intensifying the lust pumping through his veins. He felt the overwhelming desperation come over him again and before he knew what he was doing, he was on his feet and storming back into Cartman's house.

He pushed roughly past people and through crowds until he was walking up the stairs. He opened the first door he came to and smashed it closed behind him.

He hit the light and was surprised to see himself in Cartman's room. It hadn't changed much but there were far less toys now. The anger in him was making him itch. He stormed to Cartman's bed and with nothing else to do, he started hitting it.

Stan raised his arms above him and brought it down as hard as he could. Cartman's pillows flew in all directions but he didn't care.

Why did Kenny do this? Was it just his goal in life to fuck people up?

"GODDAMIT!"

He hit the bed again, this time more forcefully.

There was a sudden noise and Stan brought his eyes up.

"_You."_

Kenny's blue eyes widened as Stan charged at him with murder in his eyes.


	6. Discovering Me

He grabbed Kenny's jacket and pulled him through the door. Kenny didn't even have time to open his mouth as Stan kicked the door closed and then smashed Kenny against it. The boy cried out but Stan didn't care. He pulled him back and slammed him again.

"This was you!" he screamed.

Kenny's eyes were wide as he stared. Stan felt his heart squeeze as he saw fear in those eyes. The thought of Kenny being scared was foreign indeed. He let him go and brought his arm back, his hand curled into a fist.

Stan saw Kenny close his eyes as he rammed his fist forward.

It connected with the door, hard. The pain seemed to calm him a bit. He leant with both his arms by Kenny's head. The blond opened his eyes slowly and he seemed amazed that Stan's fist was next to him rather than in his face.

"Why did you do this, Kenny? Why?" his voice broke.

Kenny looked up at Stan's face. He saw the tears behind his deep blue eyes. Kenny wanted to hold him. He wanted to kiss him and tell him that he didn't mean to. He didn't do it on purpose.

"Stan you've been fighting it for so long! I've watched you for years and years! Every time you're in the school showers, you keep your eyes on the floor because if they're not then you're staring at one of us. You get so uncomfortable around me because I can see that you like it! Why don't you just admit it?"

"Because I'm not fucking gay!" he screamed.

Kenny felt his own anger flare up. He slapped him. "Yes you are!"

Stan brought his face back around to Kenny's. He had never felt any emotion that equalled what he felt at that very moment.

"I could kill you right now, Kenny," he seethed.

He saw in the blonde's eyes that he didn't doubt it.

"Then kill me."

Stan was clenching his jaw so tightly that his eyes hurt. He still felt it. The heat. It was killing him from the inside out. All those questions he had been asking himself, all the shame and frustration, the confusion and longing… it was eating him. He decided to find out once and for all.

He lunged at Kenny, grabbing the back of his head roughly. He forced the blonde's lips to kiss, kissing him so hard that it hurt.

Kenny didn't resist. He didn't move. Stan forced the boy's mouth open, dominating him with his tongue. He felt his body respond to him like a whip. Pleasure rolled down his chest and into his shaft as he crushed Kenny against the door.

The blond raised his arms, giving Stan more access. He heard Kenny moan against his lips, and the sound had him gasping. He reached down and grabbed the blonde's crotch, just like Kenny had done to him.

Kenny pulled away the kiss to suck in a breath.

"Yes…"

Stan felt shivers vibrate through him. He reached down and grabbed Kenny's shirt. Without caring, he ripped it open. He expected the blond to protest, but he didn't. He leant his head against the door as Stan leaned forward. He ran his lips over Kenny's long, graceful neck. He felt Kenny's body trembling against him, begging for him, but he didn't comply. Instead he started to wind kisses down his neck, over his collarbone and all the way back up the other side.

It felt good to be the one in control. Kenny was completely under his spell. He was winning.

Stan pressed his lips to Kenny's again, kissing him until he pulled away for air. He could feel McCormick's shaft against his thigh and the urge to touch him was becoming overwhelming. He ran his hands up Kenny's body, loving the way he felt.

He was so different to Wendy. Where she was soft and delicate, Kenny was rock-solid and completely unbreakable.

"Jesus, Stan," panted Kenny.

Stan smiled against his lips. He splayed his hand on Kenny's chest before shoving them roughly over his shoulders and easing off his shirt and jacket. They fell to the floor, forgotten. Kenny felt glorious against him. He was so hard, everywhere. Muscles rippled as shivers overtook the blonde's body.

Finally, Kenny began to retaliate.

Without warning, he hooked his legs around Stan's and forced him away from the door. Stan lost his balance and fell back, but with Kenny's steering, he landed on the bed. Kenny pounced him, straddling himself over Stan's bulging pants.

He watched as Kenny drank him in. His eyes were piercing every inch of his body and it only made the fire burn brighter. Stan reached up to grab him, but Kenny was quicker, pinning Stan's arms above his head. He didn't fight, instead loving the feel of Kenny's tongue caressing his sensitive skin.

"God, Kenny…"

The blond moaned against his chest, the vibrations making his whole body scream for release.

"Say that again."

Stan frowned as Kenny brought his tongue over Stan's jugular. He stopped with his faces just inches from Stan's.

"Kenny…"

The blond shuddered. Stan chuckled under his breath, making Kenny snap his eyes up at him. He put his weight on top of Stan's but the noirette couldn't help notice he kept the weight off his hips.

"Think it's funny? Hmm?"

Stan's back arched a Kenny slipped his fingers just under Stan's jeans. He found himself glaring at the blond. Kenny smiled wickedly before slowly moving his hands further and further until he brushed Stan's shaft.

"Kenny!" he growled. So much for being in control.

"Calm, calm," he teased.

"I can't be calm," Stan growled. "You're grabbing my dick."

Kenny let go. Stan gasped, wanting to scream. Suddenly McCormick was over him again, straddling him. He planted kisses down Stan's chest again, this time getting lower and lower. Finally he hovered over Stan's hips.

Stan grabbed the sheets as Kenny slowly opened the button and pulled down the fly.

He moved so painfully slowly that Stan wanted to scream. He held his breath as Kenny pulled down Stan's boxers, releasing his throbbing manhood. He felt suddenly bare in front of Kenny. Sure they showered and stuff, but this was completely different.

Kenny gripped his shaft with one hand, gently rubbing it. Stan bit his bottom lip. Suddenly something hot flicked over the tip and Stan was trying not to cry out. The tongue ran over his shaft again, sending ripples of pleasure down his legs and into his toes.

Kenny worked slowly, taking Stan into his mouth inch by painstaking inch. Stan bucked his hips slightly accidentally. Kenny didn't falter, instead putting his hands on Stan's hips, forcing him to stay still.

He slowly began to move, using his tongue to massage the tip while his slick lips ran down the length. Stan covered his face with both hands. It felt so unbelievably fucking good! He was being blow by one of his best friends and it was the best fucking feelings in the world.

Wendy had tried to blow him, but it was nothing like this.

Kenny's fingers traced small circles on his hips, bringing his pleasure to the point where it was painful. His orgasm hit him like a fucking truck. He grabbed Kenny's head, and let the hair run between his fingers. He tried not to thrust but he couldn't help it as his seed pumped and pumped. He cried out as the orgasm shook his entire being.

Finally it stopped. He threw himself backwards onto the bed. His whole body was spent. The alcohol was still pumping through him but it was nothing compared to that high.

He heard Kenny do something before he crawled up Stan's body. Stan opened his arm and Kenny lay into it. He turned to him.

"Kenny… that was…"

Kenny smiled. With one finger he gently traced Stan's jawline. Stan looked up and down his face, trying to see something – _anything_ – that would make what they had just done weird. But he didn't. He had never felt so completely at ease than he did with Kenny at that moment. The blond pulled him closer and they kissed. It was soft, sweet. He didn't know that guys could kiss each other so nicely. He always imagined some kind of manly kiss.

But Kenny's kisses had his stomach dancing.

"Do, do you…?"

Kenny smiled. "Don't worry about it, dude."

But Stan could still feel Kenny's erection on his hip. He felt bad. Kenny had just taking him to heaven and didn't want anything back. True, he was terrified. He didn't have the slightest idea how to…

Stan leant down and kissed Kenny again. He put a little more force behind it as he let his tongue slowly massage Kenny's. After a while, he felt Kenny turning into him. He wrapped his arms around Stan's neck, forcing him on top of him. Stan loved the feeling on having Kenny's hard body under him. He pulled away and started to trail kisses down Kenny's bare chest just as the blond had done.

"Stan," he said. His voice was firm but lazy. Stan didn't stop, slowly moving himself awkwardly down Kenny's body.

He rested his nose on Kenny's belt. Strong hands gently ran through his hair. He sighed and leaned into them.

"Dude, it's OK. You don't – oh!"

Stan grabbed Kenny's shaft. He let himself just look. He was magnificent. Everything he had been fighting… all those times he was confused, he wasn't really confused. He just didn't want to face the truth.

He closed his mouth and slowly ran his tongue over Kenny's shaft. He was warm and hard, and as Kenny's body reacted to what he was doing, he found confidence, taking him in deeper and deeper. He moved slowly but his mind was racing. What if he didn't like it? Was he doing it wrong? Shit, was there a wrong was to suck?

Kenny whispered his name over and over again like a chant. He could hear him moaning as he slowly rolled his hips, making Stan move faster and faster.

There was a sudden crash and burst of light. Stan yelped and threw himself over the bed, landing heavily on the other side. He saw Kenny reach up and grab the pillow as whoever had come into the room gasped.

"Kenny! Sorry, dude."

Stan recognised Token's deep voice. Kenny laughed and held the pillow over his lap. Bebe was hanging off Token's arms and giggling stupidly.

"Who's behind there?" she asked, taking a peek.

Kenny gave her a knowing smile as Stan held his breath, keeping himself as low to the ground as he could.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" teased Kenny.

Token laughed. "Alright man. We get it. We'll find another room. Hope you're not hurt down there," he called. Stan raised his arm up just enough to give them a thumbs up. He was glad that he didn't put on his watch or bracelet. Bebe would have recognised it. They laughed again and the door closed with a thud.

Stan breathed out in relief, slowing getting to his feet. He sat on the bed as Kenny zipped up his pants. He leant forward and put his forehead on Kenny's shoulder. He wasn't sure what to do with this new found information about himself. He would have to tell Wendy. He had just cheated on her. Fuck.

"Stan? You ok?"

He raised his eyes and smiled. Looking into Kenny's wide-eyes, he didn't regret it. In fact, he wanted to do it all again. He leant forward and kissed him gently.

"You know… my mom thinks I'm staying here… wanna go back to yours?"

Kenny smirked. "Sure."

They gathered their clothes quickly, straightened out the covers, hit the light switch and opened Cartman's window.

Quickly and quietly, the two of them climbed around the roof, dropped down by the side-walk and ran over the road. They laughed stupidly as they took cover in a small alley. Stan grabbed Kenny and pulled him close, still laughing. Kenny kissed his nose before his lips.

"Come on," he whispered. Kenny took Stan's hand and didn't let go as they made their way down the dark street and into the McCormick household.

Stan was a little uneasy as they made their way through the living room and into Kenny's bedroom. The blond locked the door behind them and turned just as Stan jumped him. They collided with the door, making them both laugh stupidly once again.

Kenny's hands moved quickly, stripping Stan of his costume. Stan tried to remove Kenny's but he wasn't as quick. Kenny helped him with the last few pieces, leaving them both naked in the darkness.

Stan was glad for it. Not because he didn't want to see Kenny, but in the dark, he had nothing but his senses. To touch, to tase…

Kenny led him to the bed slowly. He sat down first, bringing Stan over him. As they kissed, the heat between them ignited and soon Stan was dizzy with it. He continued where he left off, bringing Kenny over the edge in a wave of lust and desire.

The lay silently in the dark room. Stan couldn't sleep. He wanted to, but his mind was racing. Did he really just…. Did he? God… he did. He was lying, completely naked, with Kenny McCormick. He could feel the blonde's hair splayed over his shoulder. Kenny's legs were wrapped around Stan's and the blanket was just about covering them.

Kenny rested his head on Stan's shoulder, with his arm over the boy's chest. Stan held Kenny close, afraid that if he let him go then everything that had just happened would disappear.

"Stan?"

"Hm?"

"Can I tell you something? A secret?"

Stan buried his face in Kenny's messy hair. He breathed him in. "Sure, dude."

"I've never slept with someone before."

Stan frowned. "You're a virgin?"

Kenny chuckled. "No. God, no. I've never _slept_ with someone, as in sleeping in the same bed after sex."

Stan lifted his head.

"Do you want me to go?"

"No!" his grip on Stan tightened, making the quarterback smirk. "No that's not what I meant."

"I know dude. I get it. If it makes you feel better, neither have I."

Kenny rubbed his head gently against Stan's skin before breathing out sleepily. Stan decided to stay awake. He wanted to just lie there, thinking. He wanted to enjoy holding Kenny. He was also partly curious to see if the amazing feeling in his stomach was going to go.

But sleep kicked his ass that night, and it was the best night's sleep he had ever had.

Consciousness did not gradually ease him from his dreams that morning like he expected it to. He expected to be woken by the feeling of warmth seeping through his skin and the weight of his legs entwined with his new lover.

Instead, he got this.

"What the FUCK is going on here?!"

Stan and Kenny both sat bolt upright, looking around crazily for the source of the noise. It made itself known by storming across the room and grabbing Kenny's hair. Stan blinked as his brain tried to comprehend what was happening.

"Bringing your faggot bitches into MY HOUSE?"

Stan scrambled forward as Mr McCormick dragged his son from the bed. Kenny cried out as he hit the floor awkwardly.

"Hey!"

Stan didn't know where it came from, the sudden burst of strength. Maybe it came from watching those meaty fists hit the face he had caressed so lovingly not hours before. Or maybe it came from seeing the burning hatred in Mr McCormick's eyes. Or maybe, Stan was fucking crazy. It didn't matter.

Because Stan threw himself at Stuart McCormick. He used his weight to knock the man to the ground. He used his knees to pin those tattooed hunks of rotting flesh he called arms to the floor. Then he hit him.

He hit him with his right fist twice. Then once with his left. Then he put his hands together and swiped him across the face.

He hit him again, and again, and again. He hit him until the blood from his own knuckles mingled with the tattered flesh that was now Mr McCormick's face. Something grabbed him from behind and wrestled him away. He fought and kicked with the fact that he was completely naked never registering in his mind.

"Stan! STAN!"

The word pierced his mind, bringing him back to some sense. His vision was blurry but he could see the crimson dripping from his fingers. There was something else there, too. He shivered as he saw it was skin.

He couldn't look down. He was shaking all over. He kept blinking and he didn't realise he was crying until Kenny grabbed his face in his hands and wiped a tear away with his thumb. He was talking to him but he couldn't make out what he was saying. Stan let himself be sat down on the bed. His toe touched Mr McCormick's leg and he pulled back, disgusted.

Did he just kill Kenny's dad?

Kenny gathered up their clothes and he didn't move as Kenny dressed him before dressing himself. He stood Stan up and shoved his coat on him, pulling up the collar.

"Stan, Stanley? Stan you need to listen to me, OK? We need to go. Come on. We need to move. Now. No, don't look at him. Just step over him – that's it, that's it, come one."

Kenny pulled him through the living room and out into the daylight. He wasn't sure what time it was. He thought he saw the sun just rising, so he guessed it was still early. Kenny dragged him across the street and he didn't know where he was going until they stood on Stan's porch. Kenny reached into Stan's pockets and grabbed his keys, before ushering him into the warm house.

Stan felt another tear fall down his cheek as Kenny shut the door quickly and then dragged him upstairs. They ended up in Stan's bathroom where Kenny proceeded to undress him. He practically lifted him into the bathtub and then turned on the shower.

Stan gasped loudly as the freezing water cascaded over his naked skin. Kenny bent over him, still completely dressed and kept him still.

Stan heard him whispering sweet nothing's quietly until the water became warmer and it slowly started to reach him. The heat began to penetrate through the shocked haze he was in. He looked down and saw the blood from his hands making a crimson river down the plughole.

He blinked furiously as the water continued to cascade over his head. He saw Kenny watching him with wide-eyes, his arms holding Stan's biceps and his head partially in the stream.

Stan reached out a hand, ignoring the blood under his fingernail and gently touched Kenny's cheek.

"Ken…?"

Relief flooded the boy's face. He jumped forward and embraced Stan, who didn't know what else to do but cry. What had he done? What the _fuck_ had he done?

"Kenny, I… I killed him…"

Kenny had his arms wrapped around Stan's head when he kissed his hair.

"No, no you didn't. You didn't. He was breathing. He was breathing."

Stan nodded in his arms, sucking in a breath and letting out a sob.

They stayed like that until Kenny was thoroughly soaked. Stan felt himself come back into his own mind slowly, but he was still shaken. He took comfort in his friend's… his _lover's_ embrace. But soon the embrace wasn't enough. Stan found himself pulling Kenny into the bath. Kenny scrambled in but fell awkwardly. They didn't care.

Stan kissed him harder than he had ever kissed anyone. He loved the way Kenny's lips felt against his and the way the water ran over his already boiling body.

Kenny felt his need, moving himself until he was on top of Stan.

Stan didn't let himself think. He just let himself give in to Kenny. There were no questions anymore. There were no doubts.

Stan Marsh was gay. And he was proud.

Kenny ran his hand over Stan's face and into his hair, making him shiver. Stan leant down and grabbed at Kenny's pants. The blond didn't resist.

Stan pulled furiously at Kenny's wet trousers until they were at his knees. The blond moaned against Stan's neck as the noirette grabbed his shaft and ran his hands over it lovingly. He pulled Kenny closer, shifting himself and guiding Kenny's shaft until it touched the rim of his core.

Kenny gasped. "Stan!"

Stan ignored him, forcing his lips against his own again and fighting for control of Kenny's tongue. He guided Kenny's pulsing shaft further and further into his tight core.

"Stan…" Kenny protested, trying hard to pull away.

"Shut up and fuck me."

Kenny moaned at Stan's words and the urge to thrust was overwhelming.

"Stan, it'll hurt! I need to-"

Stan rolled his hips, pushing Kenny's tip further into him. Stan didn't care what Kenny was trying to tell him, he just needed to feel him.

Kenny moved as slow as he dared. He was going to hurt Stan like this. He needed to play with him first, relax his muscles before he could take him. But Stan was writhing beneath him and it was driving him over the edge. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt him, but the noirette was begging him to take him.

He inched himself forward, hoping that the water and the heat had helped loosen him.

"God, Stan… you're so tight," he breathed.

The noirette moaned and bit his bottom lip. Kenny felt a wave of heat sear through him, making his movements slightly faster. As half of his shaft entered Stan, the boy began to wince. Kenny stopped abruptly and leant down. He kissed Stan's lips, his eyes, his nose, his neck, his ears. He whispered sweet nothings into his ear as he slowly moved his hips forward.

Stan gasped and his eyes screwed up.

Kenny ran his hands over the black-haired boy's face. He wanted to stop, he knew that he was hurting him, but his own passion was taking over him.

Kenny let out a cry as Stan did, finally putting the entirety of his length inside his new lover.

"Are you OK? Do you want me to come out?"

Stan's fists were balled and his eyes shut. He shook his head furiously. Kenny moved his hip slightly and Stan gasped in pain. He needed Stan to relax. He reached forward and gently took Stan's shaft in his hands. He rubbed it softly, coaxing him to full hardness. He kept going until Stan was moaning.

Kenny bit his bottom lip and slowly rolled his hips.

Stan winced at first but as Kenny shifted, Stan let out a surprised gasp. He nodded, urging Kenny on. The blond tried to keep his breathing steady as he rocked his hips back and forth, back and forth.

Soon, Stan was grabbing the shower curtain in pleasure, whispering Kenny's name. Kenny grabbed Stan's hips forcefully, squeezing against the pleasure.

He had had men before, but this… this was something different. He began to buck furiously, loving the way Stan felt. God, how long had he wanted this?

"Kenny! I'm going to – I'm going…!"

"Yes, Stan! Yes!"

Stan released his seed as Kenny pumped his into Stan. The shower washed the sticky whiteness away as each pumping produced more. Kenny had never had such an intense orgasm. He bucked one last time before slumping forward. He pushed his arms under Stan's body, holding him close. Stan wrapped his arms around Kenny's broad shoulder, rubbing his nose gently over Kenny's cheek.

They didn't say a word. They didn't need to.

"Oh! How long have you two been home?"

Stan looked up with a start to see his mother walking sleepily into the kitchen. He slid his hand from Kenny's lap, sharing a quick glance with him.

"Not long."

She nodded and yawned, walking over to the coffee maker that was full with fresh hot liquid. She grabbed a mug that was hanging on the wall and filled it with the steaming brew.

"Did you boys have fun last night?"

Stan smirked and squeezed Kenny's knee. Kenny smiled into his mug.

"Yeah… we haven't been to sleep yet, though."

His mom sighed and gave them a half-hearted disapproving look.

"I take it you'll be off to bed, soon, then?"

Stan nodded sleepily, grabbing the last piece of toast that was on the table. They had showered together before going downstairs and making something strong to drink.

"So you're not coming with your dad and me to see Shelly today either I take it?"

Stan gave her his best 'I-love-you' look. They would have gone straight to bed if not for the fear of Stan's parents walking in on them. Stan wasn't too sure how his dad would react. Part of him even thought he might react like Kenny's dad, but hopefully with a different conclusion.

"If that's OK…?"

She smiled. "Sure, honey. You staying too, Kenny?"

Kenny looked at her innocently. "If that's OK, Mrs Marsh? I think I'm too tired to walk home."

She waved her hands dismissively. "It's a Saturday. Do you want anything else to eat?"

The boys shook their head politely. The two of them said goodnight to Stan's mom, Stan giving her a quick kiss before draining their coffee and heading upstairs.

Stan drew the curtain, blocking out the light before they fell on the bed, defeated.

They tangled themselves in each other, nose-to-nose, until they both drifted off into an easy, blissful sleep.

The bell rang furiously in his ears.

Stan slammed his locker shut, his arms laden with books. He had only just walked into school – late. He wasn't usually late, but he had… made an exception.

Kenny had stayed with him all weekend. They stayed in his room playing Xbox, making love and just generally relaxing. It had been one of the best days of his life. He had turned off his mobile and stocked the room with food and drink, and together they had stayed, wrapped in sheets.

Kenny had gotten a call from his mother on Saturday, telling him that his father was in hospital, that he had come home from the bar drunk and beaten before passing out in Kenny's room.

The blond had acted surprised but his mother told him to stay at Stan's house as Karen was staying at her friend's house and she was staying in the hospital.

And that was that.

Stan slowly leant his head against the cool metal of his locker. He still felt the blood dripping from his fingers, still felt the brush of Kenny's hand on his jaw. He didn't know what was going on with him… was he gay now? He hadn't seen Wendy, and he hadn't spoken to Kenny about whether or not they were an item. He had so much on his mind that it was starting to spill over, making his cheeks flush.

"Stan?"

He spun on his heel and his eyes widened.

"Hey Wend, you OK?"

She didn't look it. Her hair was pulled back into a rough ponytail and he saw it shining with grease. Her face was pale and there were dark blots under her eyes. She was clinging onto her notebooks so hard that her fingertips were white.

He didn't move to touch her.

"I – I need to talk to you. Will you come with me?"

He frowned and nodded. She didn't reach forward to take his hand like usual. Instead she just turned and walked through the emptying hallway until they found a similarly empty classroom. They closed the door behind them.

Stan felt his heart hammering in his chest. She knew. She had found out. God.

"Stan… will you sit?"

He sat on top of an empty desk. She put her books on the teachers table before turning to him. Her light grey eyes were glistening with tears before she even opened her mouth.

"I… I..."

She covered her face with her hands and let out a sob. Stan wanted to reach forward and touch her, but he didn't. If she knew about him and Kenny then the last thing she would want was him touching her.

"Stan… I cheated on you."

The words hit him like a slap around the face. He blinked, trying to make sense of the words hanging in the air. Wendy began to mumble apologies and tell him how sorry she was, but he wasn't really listening. She took his face in her hands while she cried, begging him to forgive her.

Stan raised his eyes to hers and was disappointed when Kenny's bright eyes didn't look back.

"Wendy… Wendy! Hey, it's OK. Hey," he gently ran his hand over her cheek. She sniffed and looked up.

"This guy... it was a guy, right?" She nodded. "This guy… do you like him?"

She sniffed again and shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know, it was at Cartman's party and I was really drunk and-"

"Do you like him, Wend?"

"I – I think so."

Stan smiled. "I like someone else, too. I guess there's something telling us that what we had is over. We've been dating so long now Wendy, and maybe I think it's time we stopped… for good."

She let out another sob.

"But I do love you, Stan."

He gently kissed her forehead. "And I love you. I always will. My first love."

She smiled faintly and wiped her cheeks. He let her compose herself before getting to his feet. He wrapped her up in a hug before smiling faintly.

"Friends?" he asked.

"Forever."

He chuckled. "Oh, and this guy… I don't wanna know who he is, OK?"

She laughed then.

"Deal. As long as I don't find out who this new girl is."

His heart jumped to his stomach. "Don't worry, there's no chance of that."

She nodded and together they left the classroom.

He should have told her. But there was no point in hurting her more, was there? She was feeling guilty enough. And it was true, he would always love her, but as he looked across the cafeteria into a sparkling pair of blue eyes, Stan knew that things had changed.

He didn't know if was for the better or not, but it was change nonetheless.

He ate his lunch with Kenny, their knees touching under the table. Afterwards, they snuck into the gym to steal a few kisses.

As Kenny brushed a strand of hair from Stan's eyes, something in his peripheral vision made him turn his head. The sight before him shocked him so deeply, and he didn't even know why.

Kyle stood arm-in-arm with Bebe, his packed lunch in his hand.

His expression was so utterly and completely broken.

"Kenny," he breathed. "How could you?"


	7. Tell Me Why

_Kenny, how could you?_

_How could you? How could you?_

I couldn't breathe. My lungs had shrivelled up into small black stones. My vision was swimming, bringing the two boys in front of me in and out of focus.

They were so close… so close together. A flash of blond and black. Good and evil.

Evil, evil, evil…

I didn't know how I managed to turn, how I managed to pelt from the gym. I didn't know how my body flung itself over the outer fence and into the fields beyond. But I ran. And ran. And ran.

I ran until pain was pumping through me quicker than blood.

Something caught around my foot as I ran, throwing me into the muddy ground. It was cold. I hit my head. I didn't feel the pain of the blow, only the warmth seeping down my face before being sucked up greedily by the earth.

_Why? Why Kenny? Why would he do that to me? What did I ever do to him? How could he? How could he? How could he?_

My chest rose and fell, rose and fell.

How had it come to this? How did I let this happen? It was my fault, my fault… all mine. I had let him go, I had driven away those eyes.

The tears came. They were sucked up just as greedily as my blood, and I fed it. I quenched the earth's thirst with my tears, very much intending to stay like that until all the water left my body and then all the blood and I was nothing but a rotting corpse for the birds to eat.

My own words echoed again in my head.

"_Kenny… how could you?"_

One Month Earlier

I tapped quickly on my keyboard, writing down everything that I could about the Founding Fathers. I found it easier to start my assignments as soon as I could, because then the homework was gone and I could do whatever I wanted with my free time. It was better than leaving it to the last minute.

I sat on the floor with my text books around me. I flipped through the pages until I found the section that I needed before continuing my typing.

I could hear him talking above me. His deep voice rumbled above those of his other friends. It was hard for me to concentrate on my work when I knew he was so close. Usually I could block it out, but today it was getting hard.

I didn't know why, but it was just getting increasingly harder to ignore my feelings for him. I had had them for as long as I could remember.

Stan was my best friend. My brother. My partner in crime. I wasn't sure when friendship had bordered over to something else, but I had come to terms with it. My sexuality had been my biggest secret. It was a secret that I had told no one. How could I? If anyone found out that I was gay, I would be outcast, and it would be like giving a loaded gun to a kid and saying 'Hey, don't pull the trigger'.

I sighed.

"… ewed Wendy."

I blinked, bringing myself back into focus. Did I just-

"No. Fucking. Way."

I looked up briefly to see Cartman staring at the bed behind me. I didn't want to turn. I had missed the first part of the sentence. I didn't think I wanted to know what Stan had just told them.

"Dude, you did _not_ fuck Wendy Testaburger."

My whole body went rigid. Something began to knaw at my stomach, sending waves of pain rippling through me and settling in my chest. I felt my throat closing but I couldn't move to grab my inhaler.

_No._

"What was it like?" breathed Cartman heavily.

My stomach rolled. _God no, please. I can't…_

"It was awesome, dude. Awesome."

I couldn't look up. If I looked up and saw those cobalt eyes, I would die.

"Details, dude!" protested the rumbling monotone of Kenny. "We want details! Did she…"

I drowned them out. I couldn't hear them. I couldn't even feel myself breathing. I had to leave. I needed to leave. I was going to be sick.

Parts of Stan's voice involuntarily pierced my senses.

"We were just foolin' around… kissing… and, you know… I got to second base… she really liked it… she drove me fucking mad… condoms… we were naked…"

I retched into my mouth. My breathing was quick and my hands clammy. I tried to drown out everything. How could he do this to me? Why was I being like this? I felt stupid. I felt sick. I felt-

"Dude?"

His hand touched me. It was so warm that I felt fire burn my skin. The touch was so sudden that it had me jumping from my skin. I scrambled away from him. I couldn't look at him. I couldn't.

I pulled the straight mask over my face. In 'anger', I grabbed the laptop and books, shoving them into my bag.

"Dude, what the fuck?"

The fake anger suddenly became very real as I heard the accusation in his voice. I braved a look into his eyes. They were glaring at me. It was a look that made me shiver whilst fuelling my anger.

"If I knew this was all I was coming over for, then I would have stayed at home!" I snapped, throwing my bag over my shoulder. Stay angry, Kyle. Stay angry. They can't see the pain behind the anger. Anger is good. It's good.

His voice was soft as he breathed my name. "Kyle, what…?"

_Angry. Stay angry. Anger will keep the tears at bay._

"Well fucking done, Stan! You stuck your dick into your girlfriend! It's not some earth-changing thing!"

I inwardly winced at my own words. Too much anger.

Before I looked into his face, I turned and stepped towards the door. His voice rang out through the room and intro my chest, crushing the air from my lungs.

"What the fuck is your problem, Kyle? This happens to be important to me!"

The sob lodged itself in my throat. God, he said my name. I spun on my heel with my finger raised, ready to let out another nasty retort when I stopped. Stan was on his feet, towering over me. He didn't scare me though. If anything, he looked fucking amazing.

His face had lost all remnants of his childhood, now adorning a strong, firm jaw. His lips were full and his skin flawless. His black hair was its usual mop, but it always managed to fall into a cool, nonchalant look. But his deep, dark eyes glistened like gems. God, I could look into those eyes forever.

My mouth went dry as I saw the confusion in his expression. He was angry, but he didn't know why. I watched him for a second, wondering if he could see it. Could he see past my anger?

_Please, please understand, Stan. Please._

Nothing.

All hope I had ever had deflated in that instant, leaving me nothing but a hollow shell. I lowered my hand in defeat. Without saying another word, I turned and walked from the room. I didn't linger, charging down Stan's hallway, down the stairs and through the front door. As soon as I was in the cold evening air, I ran.

My gangly legs brought me up the road and crashing into my house. My mother called something from the kitchen but I didn't hear.

I charged up the stairs so similar to Stan's, and through the brown door into my room. I pushed my back against the door and heaved it shut. I knew that my mother would be up within moments to check on me, to check on her Bubbie. I couldn't deal with her. I was too upset. I couldn't deal with anyone.

I held my breath, held back my tears until the ever faithful knock vibrated through the wood and onto my back.

"Bubbie, everything OK?" she drawled in her lazy, New Jersey accent.

"Yeah Mom… actually, no. I'm not feeling too well. Would you mind if I just went to bed? I ate at Stan's."

My whole body trembled as I said his name. My voice was steady, believably calm. It had taken years of forced training to get that tone right.

"Oh, OK Bubbie. I'll go make you some hot milk and honey."

I smiled as the first tear rolled down my cheeks. "Thanks, Mom."

I could hear her footsteps retreating down the hall and towards the stairs. I sighed and dropped my bag, letting my whole body slide down the door. My hat caught on the wood and fell into my lap as I landed with a thump.

God… he had done it. He had finally slept with her. He had killed any dreams I had that we might one day be together. Which was stupid. And childish. And completely fucking insane.

But it was the only hope I had.

The tears came. But they weren't those whiny, sniffling little things but the deep, body-shaking, heart-wrenching sobs. The sobs that had snot dripping down your nose faster than a freakin' waterfall. I was one big ball of snot and water. It was not my most attractive moments.

But who cared?

I wasn't sure how long I was there. Long enough for the streetlights to be on. Long enough to hear my parents go to bed. Long enough to feel every single muscle in my body bite me in pain.

As I lifted my head from my knees, I was hit by a wave of nausea. Then a pounding began from behind my eyes, making each beat of my heart send daggers into my brain. I guess it was some kind of poetic justice – living was killing me.

I sighed, too tired to care. I should've gone downstairs for some water because I was quite dehydrated, but I didn't.

I crawled across the floor and onto my bed. I roughly pushed down the covers and climbed in, too tired to even take off my shoes. As my head hit the pillow, my world went vertigo. I thought I felt another stray tear roll down my cheek before the darkness claimed me, and I became Her bitch.

My head pounded in time with the ringing bell. My back pack had never felt so heavy. My eyes were still red from the night before. The thought of being near him, so close to him in class, was overwhelming. I tried to tell my Mom I was sick, but I found that I couldn't talk. I had completely lost my voice.

So I had showered, dressed, eaten and climbed onto the school bus. I stayed away from the back, choosing instead to sit by Butters. The boy had engaged me in a surprising conversation.

"You OK, Kyle?"

I shook my head. Butters rubbed his knuckled together.

"Can I tell you a secret, Kyle and y – you won't tell nobody?"

I blinked and turned to him, nodding my head. I attempted to smile encouragingly, but it twisted into something ugly. Butters didn't seem to notice, staring at his hands.

"I – I got myself a girlfriend, and she's, well she's real nice." Then I did smile.

"G…od f – ou," I chocked. Butters seemed to understand my hesitation to speak, instead filling the silence himself.

"Her name is Hayley a – and she's in the grade below, but she's mighty cute w – with this little button nose and the cutest freckles… I really like her, see, a – and it's one month anniversary tomorrow and, and I guess what I'm sayin' is I might need some help with a gift. W – will you help me, Kyle? I don't wanna tell anyone else cos they'll just tease, especially Cartman," he added darkly.

I nodded and patted his shoulder. His soft blue eyes gave me a look so full of happiness it made my heart sink that little bit lower. Was he treated really treated so badly? I sighed.

Thinking about it, he really was.

My mind raced back to the present as something caught my shoulder, knocking me into the locker. I looked up, ready to shout when I saw what had hit me. Cartman, Token and Craig walked ahead, sniggering. I didn't have the energy in me to argue, so I slammed my locker shut and shuffled forward into my class.

When English was over and the bell rang out, I practically jumped from my desk and scrambled out hoping to be far enough away before he walked out and I was forced to see him.

No such fucking luck.

"Kyle!"

A strong hand gripped my bicep, forcing me to turn. I lowered my eyes, averting his gaze. If I looked into them I would break.

"What's up with you, man? Have I done something?"

I shook my head.

"Then what's wrong? Look at me, Kyle."

My heart raced against my ribcage, but I looked. His whole face was covered in a blanket of sadness and confusion. His black hair was splayed across one eye, reminding me of his Gothic phase. Even though he was a dick in his depression, he looked fucking adorable.

"I… can't," I croaked. My voice broke unattractively and I found myself storming away. I headed straight into the nearest bathroom, wanting nothing more than to lock myself in.

I made sure that I headed to the back bathrooms – they were usually deserted.

As I slammed the door open, my theory was proven wrong.

I locked eyes with the shadow hunched over the sink. He stared at me intently, his hand gripping the handle of the toothbrush in his mouth. His blond hair was a knotted mop on his head as usual and his orange jacket had a few more dark blotches on it. I blinked back my tears.

"Kenny?"

He tried to give me his usual easy grin, but it only made toothpaste drip from his lips. He jerked himself over the sink, but it had already dropped onto the front of his jacket. I stood awkwardly in the doorway as he spat and rinsed his mouth, finally shoving the toothbrush and small roll of cheap toothpaste into his pocket.

"Sup, dude?" he asked whilst wiping his mouth with his sleeve.

I glanced up from his pocket to his face. He shrugged.

"Water was turned off again." His tone was so casual, so nonchalant that I carried on staring. He put his hands in his pockets and rocked on the balls of his feet, waiting for me to say something.

When I just walked past him, he turned.

"Kyle…?"

He put a comforting hand on my shoulder, but I didn't look up. Kenny and I had never been that close friends. He was everything that I wasn't, and vice versa. He was a clown, an attention seeker, where as I preferred to keep my head down and study.

"I'm OK," I breathed. My voice sounded as pitiful as I felt.

"Seriously, dude, you're not OK. What was with that major freak out yesterday?"

I kept my back to him, walking closer to the cubicle. God, I wanted him gone.

"No…thing."

"Kyle, look, I know we're not that close man, but-"

"Kenny, I said I'm fine," I snapped. I glanced over my shoulder to see the shocked expression on his face.

The look defeated me. I sighed and turned. As soon as I let the tension leave my body, I felt my eyes brim. I looked up at Kenny, really looked at him. We stared at each other for a few heartbeats. I didn't hide any pain this time, didn't tell him I was fine, and he didn't ask. Instead his face became a complete picture of everything I didn't want to see. Pity, sympathy and aversion.

"No, Kenny," I croaked. "I'm not OK."

He blinked before pushing the emotion away like he usually did.

"Is this about Stan?"

I frowned. What?

"What?"

He gave me a sad smile. "I know I'm poor Kyle, but I'm not stupid. You think I don't know?"

Panic swelled in my chest, threatening to explode. My mind raced with everything he could know, and then images formed of what might happen if people found out. My mind screamed at me to jump him, to cover his mouth and make him swear he wouldn't tell.

Kenny put his arms up defensively.

"Whoa, dude. Chill. I haven't told anyone."

I crossed my arms over my chest, completely unconvinced. Kenny gave me his winning smile, which admittedly made me relax a little. Despite what an ass Kenny could be sometimes, he knew how to throw around his looks.

He walked towards me and gently slipped his arm around my shoulders, drawing me into his body. I couldn't help but feel awkward at how freakin' hard his muscles were.

"How long?"

I sighed. "About eight years."

His eyes shot up. "Shit, really? Damn! I've only noticed in the past year. Nice poker face, Broflovski."

"Thanks," I said sarcastically.

He squeezed my shoulders.

"Here, come sit down and talk to me dude. I think I'm probably one of the only people who will understand how you feel."

Even though the idea of having a heart-to-heart with Kenny McCormick was unappealing to say the least, he was right. We walked to the far wall and sat against it. For a while I was quiet. What would I say?

_Yes Kenny. I'm gay. I'm in love with my best friend and have been for what feels like a lifetime, but it's wasted because he's not gay and never will be. Fucking Wendy sealed that. I feel like such a fool, but I can't help the way I feel._

After a while of not being able to think of anything else, I decided to say just that. Word for word.

"I think you need to tell him, dude."

I shook my head. "No, it'll only make things awkward. The best I can hope for is that I'll get over it and be grateful for just having him as a friend."

Kenny brought the cigarette to his lips and took a drag. I shifted the weight on my ass. It was getting numb after spending so much time in one place.

"But are you sure you're gay, dude? I mean, this thing for Stan might be a one-time-thing."

I shook my head.

"No, dude. I know what I like."

Kenny raised an eyebrow playfully. "Sure?"

I grimaced.

"Sorry Kenny, you're not my type."

Kenny chuckled and took another drag of his cigarette.

"But how do you know that Stan's not gay?"

"Because he fucked Wendy, dude."

He sat up and shuffled closer to me. He put his hand on mine and made me look into those mischievous eyes.

"That doesn't mean shit. I see things man. Living under this hood has taught me that words are pointless. You'd be surprised what I know, and I know that Stan doesn't have a fucking clue who he is… so now would be your opportune time to strike."

I grimaced. "You're making me sound like a disease or something."

Kenny gave a short laugh before taking another hit of his smoke.

"Seriously though, Kyle. You need to go for it."

I folded my hands in my lap and looked down at them. I really did have bony fingers. There was also a dent in my middle finger from all those years of resting a pen against it. My hands were horrible, scraggy things which couldn't come across as manly even if I bloodied them up. I had girl hands. Why would Stan want someone with girl hands?

"I couldn't take that kind of rejection, Kenny. I think… I think it would kill me."

Kenny's face dropped like it always did when someone mentioned death. I felt the urge to roll my eyes at him but instead I waited for the neutral blanket to cover is face again. I chewed the inside of my mouth, wondering what to say. We seemed to be at an impasse. Then suddenly –

"Then I'll prove it. Give me… a month. One month and I will prove to you that Stan Marsh is gay."

I laughed bitterly before I saw that those intense eyes weren't lying. His face was a picture of truth. It was a look I had never seen on his face before. It hit me in my gut and brought back just a glimmer of my hope and will. I found that for the first time in twenty-four hours, I didn't want to cry. I found myself nodding before I could really comprehend what I was doing. Kenny gave me one quick nod and then he was gone.

I was left sitting on the bathroom floor, my head reeling and the only conscious thought pumping through me like oxygen.

_Stan Marsh… gay. _

The first week after that promise, I was crawling out of my own skin. I stayed away from all of my friends, keeping a close eye on them but never going near. Even though Kenny's promise had given me some kind of hope, I didn't want to let it get too big. So I started to mentally prepare myself for a life with only being friends with Stan. That included space. I needed time to calm my mind and take control of my feelings. Which was fucking hard.

But what was harder was being alone.

I hadn't realised that being friends with Cartman, Kenny and Stan was such a fundamental part of my life. It was weird, getting a text from Stan and not answering. Or walking past Cartman's house and not hearing an insult.

Admittedly I didn't miss Kenny's house, but I missed walking home with them. I just wanted to play Xbox, or eat cream cheese from the can. I wanted to lounge on a sofa, listening to the TV but not really watching, seeing the hunched figures of my friends around me, completely content in the silence.

And I wanted to feel him. I wanted to be in his room, surrounded by familiar purple walls and green carpets. I didn't even want anything remotely gay, like to touch him, I just wanted to be around him. He was like my other half. We could have a whole conversation without saying a word.

That Friday I found myself wondering into the gym at lunch. I didn't really have a particular spot anymore, so I was always looking for one.

As I walked through the door, I heard the unmistakable high laugh of Bebe Stevens.

I hessistated in my steps, not wanting to face Bebe and her clique. I was about to back out of the gym when her chocolate eyes found mine. I was partly relieved when I saw she was alone, holding her cell to her ear.

"OK honey, well you feel better… yeah, yeah… I will sweetie. OK. Bye!"

She pushed the button on her phone before getting to her feet. "Kyle! Wait!"

I stopped in my backing away as she jogged up to me, her blond tassels shimmering in the glimpses on sunlight pouring through the half covered windows. She gave me a big smile and I shyly smiled back. If I was straight, I would have seen Bebe's appeal.

She had been gifted with early development, gaining her a hugely curved chest. She was naturally curved, her waist going in and then coming out with grace. Her hair also seemed to flow into natural ringlets and over the years had become more than the wavy mess it was. She had flawless skin, thick lips and big eyes. She was indeed beautiful and anything that wasn't a circle wanted to get in her pants.

"Hey Bebe. You OK?" I asked, still slowly moving backwards. She caught me, though, entwining her arm in mine and dragging me over to the stands.

"Yeah, I'm goodly. But how are you, babe? Wendy's told me that you and Stan broke up?"

My heart dropped and I spun to face her. "What?"

She blinked her heavily mascaraed eyes at me. I lowered my defensive stance when I saw she had no idea why I was freaking.

"I… I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry…"

I shook my head, annoyed at myself for being so quick.

"No, sorry, it's me. I'm just… on edge. Me and Stan… we had a fight."

She gave me a sympathetic smile, gently wrapping her arm around me and leading me up the steps. I was surprised when she sat me down and took my hands.

"You tell me about it, sweetie."

I blinked, completely dumbfounded. Bebe Stevens was cool. She was the most popular girl in school, but she had never wanted to be. I remembered when she had first gotten in her chest. She was shunned by her friends because the guys were giving her all the attention. After a while, her friends came around but she was still 'that girl'. So she had embraced it and became that girl, but I always thought that she was more than shopping, shoes and sex.

"Well, I uh… I ah – I'm uncomfortable talking about sex."

I snapped my mouth shut. Inwardly I was slapping myself. What?

Bebe gave me a surprised look before giggling.

"O… kay. What…?"

I felt myself fidget while my mind raced.

"Stan was talking about sex. I told him to stop. He didn't. We argued. Now I'm here."

I could see she knew I was lying, but she didn't question it. Instead she nodded and reached into her huge purse. I smiled as she produced a large candy bar.

"Chocolate can solve anything. Trust me."

So in the silence of the gym, I found myself sharing chocolate with Bebe Stevens. And slowly, like learning to walk again, I laughed.


	8. Who Says Jew's Can't Fight?

"I had no idea that men were good at shopping, seriously!"

I smiled, trying not to let myself look too happy about the comment. Bebe twirled again in front of the mirror, gaining glances from the four guys in the shop. They were trailing behind their girlfriends but as soon as Bebe walked in, her long blonde hair flowing and those bare legs walking, she became an eye magnet.

I saw the one of the guys practically drooling as she put her leg forward, making the soft material of the dress slightly raise the skirt she was wearing.

"Shall I try it on?"

I smiled. "If you do I think these guys might jizz their pants."

She blinked in confusion before taking a swift glance around. The guys quickly looked away before she rolled her eyes.

"I'm trying it on. Hold this."

Bebe shoved her other three shopping bags into my arms and I had to practically jump to grab them. I felt a yawn come over me as Bebe disappeared through the changing room door. I shoved my hands in my pocket and looked around the store for something interesting.

What I got were four pairs of hands giving me thumbs up. I nodded my head awkwardly before turning to face the changing rooms.

Luckily, Bebe stepped out.

The bright pink dress looked amazing on her. It accentuated her hips without making her look like a tent and was long enough to not be un-classy, but short enough to make her look sexy. I tilted my head to the side as she did a 'ta-da' stance.

"I don't think the colour suits you. Here," I said, grabbing the same dress in a deep gold. She huffed at me, clearly unimpressed, but went into the changing rooms again.

When she emerged, she looked like a Greek goddess.

I smiled as I saw the awed expression on her face. She looked down at herself before looking into the floor to ceiling mirror. The colour matched her skin tone and made her eyes look even bigger and brighter.

"Kyle… wow. Thank you."

I nodded my head before pulling my phone from my pocket. I briefly saw her enter the changing rooms again as I pushed the button on my smartphone.

_Hey. Wuu2?_

I deleted the message and shoved it back into my pocket.

Bebe came bouncing back out, the dress draped over her arm. She linked her arm into mine and began blabbing happily while she paid.

I found myself listening to her. It was strange. Bebe was the last person I ever saw myself becoming friends with, but a few days back she had cornered me in the gym. We ate our lunch and just hung out. It was the first time I'd felt comfortable since I 'broke up' with my friends. She had invited me to eat lunch the next day, and I did.

Then again on Friday. We were getting along so well that she invited me to her place for dinner. I had surprised myself and gone along. We talked about pretty much everything.

I could see that she wasn't the spoiled, stupid brat she made herself out to be. Instead she was smart, funny and easy to be around. She had cooked us pizza since her parents were out and then sat down in front of the TV with bad movies and popcorn. She was telling me a story about when she did gymnastics when her eyes went all glassy and she started to cry.

I barely had time to catch her as she fell onto my shoulder and sobbed her eyes out. It took a while but she explained that even though she was trying to tell the story of when her leotard ripped which was supposed to be funny, but the ending to the story was that she rang her mom crying and they didn't pick her up. She had been left in the corner all afternoon until her teacher drove her home. I found a new sense of awareness about Bebe, and I could see that she was a girl who had absent parents.

After that she had repeated the words 'I'm sorry' enough to give me a nosebleed and I gave her a Kleenex and then we carried on watching the movie.

We walked through the mall talking about nothing at all when I saw something that caught my attention. I saw Kenny, Cartman and Stan walking just ahead of us. My body went rigid, bringing Bebe and myself to a complete halt.

"Wha – oh. You, uh, you wanna get something to eat?"

I swallowed back the lump in my throat and nodded quickly, turning us on our heels and marching in the other direction.

We arrived at the Food Court quicker than I thought possible and we sat down close to the Juice Bar. I briefly saw a group of guys sitting a few tables down but I didn't give them a second thought. I sighed heavily as I sat, feeling the adrenaline of seeing the guys still coursing through me. I didn't completely understand why but my brain registered something like;

Stan + Cartman + Kenny x Bebe + Me = Nothing Good.

"So are you sure there's nothing else up with you and the guys? I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm loving hanging out with you and all but… I can't help feeling like there's something you're not telling me."

I flashed her an uneasy smile.

"I'm sure."

She frowned but nodded, sitting back in her chair. She reached into her purse to find some cash but I raised my hand.

"My treat. Raspberry Ripple?"

She smiled brightly. "As if there's another choice."

I chuckled under my breath and got to my feet, walking slowly to the Juice Bar. I got into the small queue before looking around the mall. Quite a few people milled about on the Saturday afternoon but it was mostly kids looking for something to do. I took my time in looking around, praying that I wouldn't see a red poof-ball hat or an orange jacket.

"Hey, can I help you?"

I turned to the pissed-off looking server and ordered the drinks quickly. As I waited, I caught sight of the guys from the table over looking at Bebe. I heard who I guessed was the leader wolf whistle before calling at her.

"Hey baby! How'd you like a taste of this hot chocolate?"

I grimaced. The guy was a big, beefy man who I guessed could pass as some kind of teenager. He had long brown hair and pants that were too tight, making his fat bulge over the edges. I completely mirrored Bebe's expression as we threw-up a little in our mouths.

The guy almost reminded me of Cartman, and that little resemblance was enough to get my blood boiling.

I was about to storm over to Bebe and do… something, when the guy at the counter demanded money. I could still hear the guys calling to Bebe as I grabbed my wallet from my pocket to pay.

"Why you alone, baby? Your boyfriend stand you up?"

I heard the anger in her voice when she replied. "Actually, he's buying me some juice and he'll be back any minute now, so if I were you – I'd fuck off."

There was a chorus of 'Ooooooh' and stupid, idiotic laughter.

The anger surged through me like lightning. Sometimes I really hated my own sex. They were vulgar and idiotic. Apparently all we did was think with our dicks and had nothing better to do than fight each other and fuck women. And it was jackasses like Beefy who made those stereotypes true. I snatched the juices from the counter and stormed over to Bebe.

I didn't give the guy's a second glance as I sat on the chair next to Bebe.

"Hey babe," I said, wrapping my arm around her shoulder and smacking a kiss right of her glittered lips. Kudos to her, she didn't even flinch, instead smiling at me like a girlfriend would.

"Hey honey," she chimed, kissing me gently again.

I played along, giving her a smirk. I offered her the juice which she took gratefully. We didn't cast our eyes to the group and part of me prayed they just fucked off… and another part wished they would come over.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" boomed Beefy.

I felt my heart jump to the sound.

I turned casually to the group and eyed them lazily. Beefy was on his feet and his friends were cheering him on.

"Problem, dude?" I asked, leaning back on my chair. Bebe turned her head so only I could see her expression. Her eyes were wide and I could see the warning.

I flashed her a smile before getting to my feet.

"You're seriously fucking this little weasel?" boomed Beefy to Bebe.

Her blonde hair danced as she turned her head to scowl at Beefy and then back to me to flash me a warning. I raised my hands in a gesture of calm.

"I don't know what your problem is, man. Just leave us alone, OK?"

Beefy did exactly what I expected him to do. He puffed himself up to his full height, which admittedly was impressive and to someone else probably quite intimidating, but all I could see was how his fat seeped under his T and made him look like dough stuffed into a pan that was too small.

"You fucking starting something you little cunt? Huh?"

I inwardly flinched. I hated that word.

Beefy towered over me and I knew that if I made the first move then his friends would join in. I watched as he pulled off his jacket menacingly, gaining shouts of encouragement from his friends. I felt Bebe grab my hand and yank me. Looking down, I felt touched at the worry in her eyes. I squeezed her hand reassuringly.

Yes, I was Kyle Broflovski. Jewish. Skinny. Pale. Ginger. Intelligent and feisty.

But I was also a black belt.

My friends and I had started Karate when we were about eight and we had done it for a while before my friends started to get bored and began dropping out one by one. Kenny left first as he couldn't afford the lessons, then Cartman as he couldn't handle the training. Stan had stayed longer but eventually trailed off. Only I stayed and continued with it for seven years and finally got my black belt a couple of months ago.

I understood the meaning that Karate taught, peace over violence… but this was South Park. And I was Kyle Broflovski.

"Seriously. Back off."

Beefy laughed openly at my warning. I saw his friends behind him laugh along, one of them telling him to rip off my head. I sighed. There was just no telling some people.

I moved my body so swiftly that he didn't feel the punch until he was doubled over and resting on my shoulder. I kept my fist in his gut as I turned to his ear.

"Now I'm going to give you two choices. I'll put you straight and hold you up until you can breathe, then you'll pat my back and walk away, or I can take one step back and let you fall and writhe in pain. Choose."

Beefy gasped but moved shakily to pat my shoulder. I stood away from him, keeping my hand on his stomach conspicuously enough so that his friends couldn't see. He looked at me with tears streaming down his face but he gave me a quick nod. I held him for a couple of seconds before backing away and smiling sweetly. He took another shuddering breath before wiping his face. He gave me a rough pat on the back and then turned. His friends studied him, confused, but he just shrugged his shoulders, mumbling that I was an alright guy.

I sat back down heavily and grabbed my juice, drinking deeply. I glanced at Bebe before choking on my juice. She was staring at me with her mouth hanging open and her chocolate eyes boring into my own.

"What?"

"What'? What the hell was that?"

I smiled at her exasperated tone. I just shrugged my shoulders.

"So I know how to fight. Are you really that surprised?"

"Yes!" She shook her head before her eyes swept over me. I ignored her until the shock wore off and we could talk normally again.

We stayed in the mall for another few hours, and she even helped me pick out something for my Halloween costume. I had something in mind but wasn't too sure how to pull it off yet. We stopped at Bebe's (unsurprisingly empty) house because we were so laden with her shopping. She invited me to stay for dinner, which I offered to cook.

"Are you sure?" she asked, leading me into the kitchen.

"Of course. Now let me see what you have."

The supplies were thin, to say the least. A couple of eggs, some mushrooms and milk. I dug around in her cupboards until I found a tin of Spam before whipping out a frying pan. In half an hour I managed to serve us half-decent looking omelettes. Bebe sneakily stole some beer from the fridge and we sat down to eat.

"Thank you, Kyle."

I stopped shovelling food in my mouth to look at her. She was staring at the food, fork in hand and blond hair swept over her face like curtains.

"It's just an omelette, Bebe."

"No, not for just the food. For today, at the Juice Bar. No one has ever stood up for me like that before. Come to think of it, no one's ever made me dinner before either. I've really enjoyed these couple of days, and I just wanted to thank you for it."

I smiled, poking my food. "You've helped me too, Bebe, and I wanna thank you for that. You're so much more than you give yourself credit for."

She raised her head and gave me a look that had my stomach dancing. I didn't know what it meant, but I vaguely recognised it. As I went to scoop another mouthful of food, I was hit by something solid and dragged onto the floor. It took me a few seconds to register that I was being pinned down by Bebe and she was crushing her lips against mine.

I barely had a chance to suck in a breath before her well-manicured hands were roaming all over me. I tried to speak but her lips forced the air form my lungs. When her small but surprisingly stong hands were snaking towards my pants, I really began my struggle.

"Bebe… Bebe, BEBE!"

I grabbed her shoulders and pulled her back enough to wriggle out of her grasp. I crawled away whilst scrambling to my feet. finally I fell against the far wall, trying to catch my breath.

She was sitting on her knees, watching me with wide eyes.

"I'm sorry, Bebe..." I huffed. "I… I can't."

I saw her eyes glistening from tears and my heart dropped. She looked so damn sad when she cried. I wanted to go to her but my heart was still racing. I slid myself slowly down the wall, keeping my eyes on her in case she pounced.

"I'm sorry Kyle, I just… I thought… you were so nice and I – I…" she wept openly and I sighed, knowing there was only one way to get out of this situation.

"Bebe, honestly its not you, its me," she scoffed. "I'm gay."

Her head snapped up. I shifted uneasily under her gaze . I saw the different emotions flicker over her face. First it was confusion, then disbelief, then there was the flickering of understanding before she finally sat back. "Huh."

I nodded, rubbing the back of my neck.

"That explains a lot, actually. How long have you known?"

I shrugged. "A while."

She folded her arms over her chest and looked at me. I could see her cheeks were rosy and her eyes were cast downwards.

"Well don't I feel like a dick," she stated. I laughed, despite myself.

"You didn't know. And I am particularly irresistible." My cheesy joke made her smile and it drained a little of the tension.

I got to my feet and walked towards her, holding out my hand which she took and pulling her to her feet. We sat back at the table and I found myself staring at my food. My admission about my sexuality had us both a little stunned. She was the only person I had ever told, and only the second person in the world to know.

Her blond hair bounced as she shook her head, debating something in her mind.

"I feel like this has something to do with Stan."

I sighed. Reaching over and taking her hands, I looked deep into her eyes. I saw a lot in them. I saw a broken girl who craved the attention from boys that she never received from her parents as a child. I saw intelligence and wit. I saw confusion and shock from my declaration. But I never saw disgust. No loathing, no hate. All I saw was a fierceness to understand and a determination to.

So I opened my mouth and spilled out everything that I had ever wanted to say to my friends. And in that hour that we sat, I found another lost soul accepting me for who I am and not what they wanted me to be.


	9. Fuck the Norm

My fingers moved swiftly over my keyboard as I put the finishing touches on my three thousand word history essay. I read through it again for the zillionth time before coming to the conclusion that it was good. It should bring me in a nice A.

I saved it and then sighed, turning back towards my bed. My suit lay across it and I couldn't help but smile. It had taken me ages to sort out that bloody suit.

My mom was horrified when she saw what I had done to the right side, but she smiled when I told her what it was all about. She had asked me whether or not I would like her help getting ready, but I waved her off telling her that Bebe was coming round to get ready. She had given me this knowing smile before leaving me be. I had just smiled and shrugged her off. God, I didn't know how I was ever going to tell her. All she would say is "Does this mean I won't have any grandchildren?"

I moaned at the idea. I would just have to deal with that when the time came.

I finally stood up and walked from my room, checking the time and heading towards the bathroom. Bebe was coming over to get ready at six, and it was now half five. I just had enough time to have a quick shower and wrap myself up in my bathrobe before the bell rang.

I heard my mother practically run to the door and then her surprise as she greeted Bebe. I stood in the hallway and laughed as Bebe took the meeting in her stride before Mom insisted that Bebe joined us for dinner.

The blonde's voice took on an emotional tinge when she accepted.

"OK then, sweetheart. Hope you like salmon."

"I do Mrs Broflovski, thank you. Is Kyle upstairs?"

"Yeah go on up, honey. I'll call you two when dinner's ready."

"Thank you," she peeped. I greeted her from the top of the stairs.

She was wearing a pair of lose jeans and a baggy jumper. Her hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail and she only wore the faintest amount of make-up.

The two of us had practically been inseparable for the past month. Neither of us admitted it, but we were clinging onto each other for dear life. She was grasping on to me for the love she never received and the friendship she craved, and I was holding onto her for the understanding and acceptance.

I wasn't stupid though, I knew the rumours going around. But we didn't care, instead letting people think what they wanted.

Bebe had seen Wendy every now and then, but she admitted to me that the two of them had been growing apart for a while. Bebe had just wanted to party whereas Wendy was comfortable in a relationship. But I had noticed that the blonde had started to tone it down.

She was wearing less and less promiscuous clothing, toning down on the make-up, and focusing more on her studies. I liked to think that I was giving her confidence to be herself.

But it didn't make her any less attractive, though. If anything it made her more.

I gave her a quick hug before ushering us into my room. I didn't feel weird around her anymore. We were completely as ease with each other. There was no sexual tension, no awkward silences. She dumped her huge bag on the floor and slumped onto my bed, careful not to touch my bag.

"You're mom thinks I'm your girlfriend," she said nonchalantly whilst making herself comfy.

I yawned and nodded. "Yeah. You're the first girl that's been to my house in about five years."

She chuckled. "Really?"

"Yep. I'm trying to get her to understand the hint. She's not doing so well."

I walked slowly over to my closet, going inside and changing into some boxers and a plain shirt. When I came out, Bebe was rummaging through her huge bag. I frowned, wondering what the hell she had brought over.

"OK," she said, pulling out a pair of straighteners. "There are two things we can do to your hair. He can straighten the right side and then spike it out whilst gelling back the left, or we can leave it curly and sort it out from there."

I chewed my lower lip. "What do you think?"

She held the straighteners to the side like a cigarette whilst staring into the pit of her bag for answers.

"I'd say straight. It will be easier to style."

I shrugged in agreement, walking over to my suit. I quickly pulled on my pants and then tucked the thin T into it. I pulled up the white shirt that was resting on the inside of the awesome jacket. I had shredded and messed up the right side of my trousers and jacket, but I wasn't sure what to do with the shirt.

Bebe strode towards me, her lips pouted in concentration.

"Put it on."

I did so. Then, armed with scissors, fake blood and dark eyeliner, she proceeded to style my shirt, incredibly careful to leave the left side pristine. Finally, the shirt was ready. I decided to leave the jacket off while she began to straighten the right side of my hair. I didn't like the way the head came so close to my head, but Bebe put on some music and talked about nothing to keep me calm.

"Right. Your hair is done. We just need to do the make-up but I'll do that in a minute." I nodded, looking into the mirror and smiling.

She had completely fucked up the right side of my hair whilst slicking the left back nicely. The parting in my hair was perfectly straight and I had just had to admire her skills.

"Bebe, have you ever considered being a beautician or something because you are really good at styling."

She chuckled whilst reaching into her bag.

"Yeah, but I dunno. I think I'd like to be, but it's what everyone would expect me to be, you know? I might surprise them all and become a dentist."

I laughed openly, slumping down into my chair as she laid her dress on my bed. Without hesitation, she reached up and pulled off her jumper and top. I briefly saw she was wearing a black laced bra, but my attention was drawn to the big bag again and the make-up box that was sitting inside.

With my curiosity peaked, I walked over and started shuffling around.

Bebe continued to strip, finally stopping when she was in nothing but her underwear.

"What's this?" I asked, holding up some kind of clamping mechanism. She smiled and shook her head.

"Kyle, really? It's an eyelash curler." She said it as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"So… are you going to talk to Stan tonight?"

I looked up but saw she was keeping a neutral face, trying to make the question sound innocent. I worried my lower lip as she folded up her jeans and jumper.

Shrugging, I got to my feet and started to pace slightly.

"I don't know… yes. No. Maybe."

She nodded, understanding spreading across her face. I bent down as she dropped her shirt to pick it up. As I handed it to her, something behind me caught my attention.

"Kyle have you seen the- oh!"

I span on my heel at the sound of my dad's voice, shoving Bebe's half naked body behind me in an effort to cover her. She clung her hands to my shoulder in shock, putting her face behind my head and resting it on my neck. I heard her laughing stupidly as I faced my dad, who was just standing in the doorway – staring.

"Jesus, dad! Can't you knock?"

"Uh… I…"

"Shut the door!"

"Right!" The door slammed shut and Bebe released her death grip, laughing openly. I joined her and the tension left the room. I did notice that she shoved her floor length black dress on rather quickly. I didn't blame her.

Just as she sat me down to do the make-up, I heard my mom call us down to dinner. Bebe gave me a nervous smile and I patted her arm in comfort.

"Don't worry, they won't bite. Well, Ike might."

She laughed and took my hands, gripping them tightly. I felt a bit bad for her. How many times in her life had she sat down to dinner with a family? She could probably count them on one hand.

We walked through the door and quickly downstairs, all the while listening to my dad's shocked voice that I had a girl in my room. An actual girl. And she was hot.

And on that note, we walked into the dining room. I don't think I've ever seen the colour leave my dad's face so quickly. Bebe just smiled and shrugged it off. My mom's face went as red as her hair and Ike didn't even look up, wolfing down his food like he's never eaten in his life. We sat at the two dinner plates and I chuckled at how interested my dad was in his food.

A tense silenced filled the air as we started our dinner. I looked over at Bebe who was staring at her food like it was talking to her.

"Bebe?"

She snapped her head up and I saw her deep chocolate eyes were glassy. She reached under the table and took my hand.

"Thank you for dinner, Mrs Broflovski. It look… amazing." I clenched her hand as she said 'amazing'. God, it sounded like she had just been thrown a lifeline. My mom looked up at her tone, only to smile.

"You're welcome, honey."

Some of the tension dissolved from the room and as we continued eating, mom started up a conversation with Bebe about school and her life in general. I kept myself quiet, just watching as Bebe interacted with my mom. I didn't think I'd ever seen her so happy.

Ike slumped back in his chair, swiping at his long black fringe. He pulled out his mobile and continued to text without a word.

I couldn't remember when Ike had changed. I swore that one morning he was wearing his Spiderman pyjamas and the next he was wearing black skinny jeans, black T's, had his hair cut spikey like an emo and had his lower lip pierced. My mom had screamed when he came home from that piercing, but neither of them could get him to take it out.

He didn't really talk to us anymore. I couldn't get through to him like I used to. He was always in his own world and most days he came home smelling like weed. It was a lot to handle from a twelve year old.

"So Bubbie, are you staying at your friends house tonight?"

I blinked, drawn back into the conversation. Bebe was looking at me, awaiting an answer. I opened my mouth, not really sure what was happening tonight. Everyone knew that Cartman was throwing some big afterparty. Most people would go there, get drunk and sleep together. I shuddered at the thought of being surrounded by all those drunken idiots.

"I dunno, mom. Maybe."

"Well make sure you let us know, Bubbie." I nodded, poking my salmon fillet with my fork. I could feel Bebe watching me worriedly, but I ignored her and finished my food.

"What's up, hon?"

Bebe closed my bedroom door as I slunk into my desk chair. I shrugged, not completely sure. There was some kind of idea forming I my mind, but it was completely stupid and I would look stupid and, and…

"Kyle?"

Bebe leant down to me, putting her hands on my lap. I put my hands on top of hers and sighed heavily.

"Nothing, Bebe. I'm OK… just, thinking…"

She nodded, knowing me well enough to not push me further. I rubbed my eyes. When had life become so complicated? Surely it was only last week we were all stood at the bus top, getting into trouble somehow and resolving it, then just being friends. Nothing else was involved. No feelings, no girlfriends. Just the guys and our antics.

"I know what'll cheer you up."

I looked at Bebe as she rummaged in her huge bag and then my eyes widened as she produced a bottle of tequila from its depths.

"We can just get drunk! Everything's better when you're drunk."

I laughed at her mischievous grin, accepting the bottle when she offered it. I stared into the yellow pit, wondering if getting drunk really was the answer. Then I brought the bottle to my lips.

At least, if anything, I wouldn't be myself.

"Dorian Grey."

All eyes turned to me and I felt my chest tighten. I shoved my hands into my pockets, trying not to gawk at the people in front of me. We were stood at the bottom of the steps leading into the school. I had wondered over after Bebe found Wendy. I had only spotted who I guessed was Clyde, Kenny and Craig… but it wasn't Craig.

Stan smiled warmly at me as he took me in. My heart rammed in my chest as his smile filled me up to the brim. He looked fucking amazing.

He was in dark leather and it hugged every curve of his body, accentuated every muscle under his skin. He had darkened his eyes as well, making those cobalt gems glitter darkly. Kenny stood beside him, looking undeniably attractive in a grey suit. It was the cleanest I had ever seen the blonde.

"Dude, that is awesome!" Kenny chuckled, slapping me on the back. I gave him a small smile before turning my eyes back to Stan.

"Y – you look, I mean your costume looks awesome Stan."

My heart bounced as he smiled again. I wanted to throw myself at him, hug him tight and never let go. But I couldn't. I shouldn't even be speaking to him. God I wanted to throw a glass of cold water in my face.

"So does your, Mr Hyde." He bowed his head slightly in acknowledgement and I couldn't help the smile that spread across my face. Stan always knew what my costumes were.

"What's up, bitches!"

We all turned behind us to the bulging figure. I sneered at him. Cartman was the thing I dreaded most about Halloween. He always found a way to fuck things up. This time he was in a black suit with a black cloak and a top hat. I saw the dagger in his belt and shook my head, knowing what he was instantly.

"Who are you supposed to be, Cartman?" asked Clyde.

Cartman frowned and pulled out his knife.

"Isn't it obvious? I'm Jack the Ripper."

"Dude, that is not fucking cool!" I shouted. He turned his thick neck my way and sneered.

"Well at least I'm not dressed as a fag!"

I shook my head and sighed. I couldn't deal with any of this.

"Anyway… I'll see you inside guys." I practically ran past them and into the shelter of the school. There were only a few people milling about the decorated hall. Food lined tables in the right side of the room and I headed that way.

The plan in my mind was still there. It was stupid, and desperate, but it was all I had.

Principal Victoria saw me and smiled. I gave her a quick wave as I made my way to the punch bowl. People were starting to fill the room. My heart raced and my palms were sweating as I reached across the bowl with my left hand, making it look like I was reaching for a sandwich, whilst my other hand had reached into the slip of my jacket enough to pull out the tequila bottle.

I emptied it into the bowl as quickly as I could, jumping as I heard people behind me. I quickly grabbed a sandwich slice and walked away, melting into the shadows.

Keeping my pace steady, I walked from the gym and into the toilets. My shaking hands reached into my jacket and pulled out the empty bottle of tequila. I snuck into a cubicle, shaking my head. What was I thinking? And why was I shaking from the rush?

I had never done anything bad, not really. It was always me that was the sensible one. I was always in control. But tonight I just wanted to be someone else. Someone confident, who knew what they wanted. I knew what I wanted.

I quickly shoved the bottle behind the toilet, flushed the thing and then escaped back into the party.

Thankfully, everyone was now here and I could fade into the background. I saw Kenny and Stan talking by the buffet table, and smiled when I saw Stan drink some punch. He coughed and then laughed, talking to Kenny before the blonde took his own drink.

They laughed together and I couldn't help but feel a spike of jealousy.

"Hey babe!"

Lithe hands wrapped around my wait and I looked up to see Bebe smiling at me. I chuckled and patted her hands before turning around and swaying to the beat with her. She gave me a knowingly look and I nodded, bringing a smile to her dark lips. Together we watched as our classmates got more and more inebriated. We joined in ourselves and soon the disco had turned into a party, and everyone was having a good time.

I laughed and grabbed onto her arms for support. She wasn't much help, swaying dangerously. Nicole continued to giggle and so did I. Everything was fuzzy and I knew I was pretty drunk, but the feeling of not being suffocated by myself was great. I loved not being worried about anything. The music was vibrating through my chest and I was so happy, just for once.

I looked up through the crowd and saw Stan. He was dancing with Wendy, their bodies so close that I felt my cheeks flush. I couldn't help the images coming to my mind. His hands on her skin, her lips on his neck…

Nicole put her body against mine and I jumped at the contact. She didn't notice, swaying her hips against me.

I looked up again, watching as Bebe dragged Wendy away. The look on his face made me want to cry. I could see his anguish, as clear as day. He was so confused, so angry and sad all at once. I knew the feeling well because I lived with it everyday. I quickly excused myself from Nicole and walked towards him. As I stared at his back, the urge to touch him was overwhelming. I just wanted to be his friend again. I didn't want any of these feelings.

But the alcohol was numbing me and, only intending to step closer, I managed to wedge my body against his.

He was so warm and he made me shudder. How many times had I imagined this…? To be so close to him? I was still a bit smaller than him, but I managed to get close enough to his ear.

"Hey Stan."

His body stiffened and I prayed that he would turn around, to see me and… who was I kidding? I wanted him to kiss me.

But instead he snapped, "Fuck off Kenny." And just walked away, leaving me clutching at the cold air before me. I felt the anguish start to suffocate me. It was dragging me and pulling me under. The alcohol turned on me, intensifying my feelings and creating a black whole into which I was sinking, forever to be lost…

"Kyle?"

I heard her voice and then her soft hands and I couldn't help it. I turned, intending to just embrace her, to take some comfort from her, but she wasn't the blonde I was after and before I knew what was happening, my lips were against hers and we were in some kind of fight with our tongues.

I felt the shock vibrating through me, but the feel of his hard body against me was still dancing along my skin and he was all I could smell, all I could think…

Nicole's hands roamed my chest and I let her, crushing her body against me. In the haze of the drink and lust, I felt as if something else was controlling my hands as they roamed over her dark skin. She was breathing heavily against me, sharing in my desperation.

Somewhere in my mind I knew that she had just broken up with Token. She was on the rebound. I shouldn't be doing this.

Then another voice piped up, screaming at me. _Well if this is what everyone wants from me, why the fuck shouldn't I? No one wants to deal with Kyle Broflovski, the skinny runt. No man would ever love him, so why the fuck shouldn't he?_

The angry voice seduced me, telling me that this was right. This was normal. A guy should be with a girl. It was the law of nature and that was why Stand didn't love me. Because I was a man, and that was wrong.

So as she grabbed my hand and dragged me through the crowd, I didn't protest. When she pushed open the door to the bathrooms, I didn't stop her. She locked the door behind me and then pushed me against it, engulfing me again. I didn't push her away. I didn't stop her.

I grabbed her hips and pulled her onto my own and turned, crushing her against the door.

I'd never felt such desperation in my life. I'd never felt a woman under me, and I had never wanted to. But as her tongue caressed my own, I didn't think of her. I closed my eyes and buried my face in her neck, rolling my hips as his face filled my mind. I found the nape of her neck and dragged my tongue against it. She tasted like sweat and perfume.

I shuddered, feeling her hands against my belt. I was quite surprised when my trousers hit the floor, along with my boxers. But she was already coaxing me, running her tongue against my pallet. I moaned, wondering what it would feel like if he did that.

In two quick motions, I had guided myself to her and then bucked. We gasped at the same time. The feeling was unlike anything I had ever expected. She was warm and wet and completely drowned me in it. I tightened my grip around her, slamming into her again. She gasped, lifting her head and letting me get to her throat. I sucked her neck just by the pulse point, moving myself into her again.

"Yes," she breathed into my ear. I drowned her out, revelling in the feel of the contact. Her arms wrapped around me as I started a rhythm. It felt so fucking good. It was better than the drink, better than the calm it brought. This was electricity, raw and wild, pumping through me.

Part of me was screaming, begging me to stop. It was telling me that this was wrong. But then the other voice was there, urging me on, telling me to fuck her with all my might.

So I did.

I knew that the bed I was in instantly wasn't my own. The pillows were too soft and the blanket wasn't thick enough. But the other thing that gave it away was the warmth next to me. I didn't want to open my eyes, I couldn't face the day.

It wasn't just the pain in my head. I had had a hangover before, but this was unlike anything I had ever felt.

My skin was burning from the heat. I could feel my muscles were aching, one muscle in particular.

The figure next to me moaned, and my breathing hitched. It was a very feminine moan. I felt my heart racing in my chest as the night before rushed back into my mind. It was a haze of heat, drink and sadness. Now my cheeks were flushed with shame.

For the love of god, tell me that never happened.

Another quiet sigh.

I reached up, ignoring the fact that I was only in my boxers, and rubbed my face. The idea of opening my eyes was terrifying me. I was a coward. I knew that. I was a coward to face the music.

"Fuck… my head…"

My eyes snapped open. Lilac walls surrounded me along with a white ceiling. Stickers danced along the white ceiling, making it sparkle. I looked to my left, breathing a sigh of relief as I saw a familiar dresser, adorned with make-up and jewellery. I laughed under my breath, rubbing my eyes again.

The figure next to me slowly sat up, dragging the blankets along with her.

I turned my head to the right and smiled.

Her blonde hair was sticking up wildly and her make-up was smudged. I could see a bruise on her neck and she was in nothing but her black underwear. She rubbed her eyes sleepily and then looked at me. She laughed and fell back, wincing as her head hit the pillow. She sighed.

"Hey."

I closed my eyes. "Hi."

"What a fucking night."

I snorted before turning my body onto my side, facing her. She looked at me, blinking furiously, trying to wake herself up. The light was seeping through her thin lilac curtains, illuminating her pale skin.

"What happened last night?" I croaked, trying to keep my face neutral. My heart raced in anticipation. I wasn't sure if I really wanted to know.

She yawned before turning her body to face mine. She put her hand under her cheek.

"Well, you were pretty fucked. I couldn't find you at the dance so I went to Cartman's party and I found you a couple of hours later. You were in the kitchen, playing some drinking game with Clyde and Tweek. I stayed with you for a bit, but the cops came round about three, kicking us all out. I just brought you here and went to sleep." She shrugged.

Her eyes were cast downwards and I could see tears in them. I gently reached over and brushed her cheek.

"What's wrong?"

Bebe covered her face with her hands before letting out a sob.

"Hey, hey, come here…" I opened my arms and pulled her into me, cradling her head under my chin while she cried. I rubbed her back and tried to soothe her, even though tears were forming in my own eyes.

"I made such a stupid mistake…" she sobbed. My lip trembled.

"So did I."

It took her a while to calm down, but finally she was quiet, sniffing now and then. I continued to rub circles on her back soothingly.

"I slept with Token."

My eyes went wide before I pulled her closer. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

"I slept with Nicole."

Her whole body went rigid. I didn't want to let her go, didn't want to look into her eyes. But she pulled away and wriggled herself up until she was practically nose-to-nose. I could feel my eyes glimmering with tears as they threatened to spill.

"What?"

I sniffed, the first tear falling. Her soft hand ran into my hair and I reached up, taking it in comfort. I brought it to my lips and then tucked it under my cheek.

Looking into those chocolate eyes, I felt my defences break. In a flood of tears I began to tell her what had happened the night before, and how I had betrayed myself. She listened, rubbing my cheek in circular motions. That morning I would forever remember it as being one of the most heart-breaking, most amazing days of my life.


	10. From the Inside Out

I spent the weekend at Bebe's house. It was nice knowing that her parents weren't there. She had a message from her dad that he was in Washington for the week, and her mom was in France. They had transferred money to her bank account, which was shamelessly spent on pizza and Chinese food.

She had listened to me on Saturday morning, and had gently traced circles in my hair. I told her about Nicole and how I had lost my virginity in the school bathroom.

Then she had proceeded to tell me about going to Cartman's party and hooking up with Token.

"_He was all over me, Kyle. Just hands and sweat and horrible, slimy kisses. He was so drunk and rough, and I just closed my eyes and imagined I was somewhere better. Afterwards he just climbed off me and left me there, lying on the bed with my pants at my ankles."_

I hadn't been much better to Nicole. When we were done, she climbed down and I pulled up my pants. We had gone our separate ways, and after a couple more shots in Cartman's house, I couldn't remember anything. Bebe had had to practically pry me away from the kitchen to take me home. I had asked her if I tried anything and she said no, just that I was really really quiet.

"_But when I took off your clothes and put you into my bed, you wrapped your arms around my neck and kissed my cheek, thanking me. You're even sweet when you're drunk, Broflovski."_

We had stayed in bed that day. After a while I managed to fall back to sleep, and when I woke up the sun was setting. I could hear the shower going in Bebe's bathroom and I had just lain in bed. When Bebe got out, I showered and dressed. I had rang my mom, finding out that my nice 'girlfriend' had rang her that night and told her where I was staying. I told her I was staying the night, keeping Bebe company and my mom had just giggled. But she had accepted.

We ordered a ridiculous amount of food from City Wok and had just eaten ourselves into a stupor. That night we didn't really talk. I think the company was enough. I saw Bebe take a little white pill and I wasn't stupid. I knew what it was. I just hoped that Nicole was smart enough to do the same.

My heart jumped and I found myself looking at my phone. I had gotten a message that night from her.

_Hey Kyle. U OK?_

_Yeah, I'm fine. You OK?_

_Yh… I feel bad._

_Me too. It was a mistake, wasn't it?_

_Yh. I woz drunk._

_Me too. Shall we just call it even?_

_Sounds good. Friends?_

_Of course. See you Monday x_

_U 2 x_

And that was that. At least she had taken it well, and she knew it was a mistake. I knew that she used me for a rebound, but I didn't care. I should never have done it. All I can remember was feeling her and smelling her perfume and how out of place she felt. It still felt fucking awesome, but it just wasn't… right.

Now it was Monday and I was in school. I had seen Nicole, arm-in-arm with Token and they looked just as loved up as ever. I had smiled at her and she smiled back. I just hope that she wouldn't go spreading it around. Bebe had seen Token and he had blanked her. I wrapped my arm around her shoulders and she put hers around my waist and we had walked to English together.

"Wanna head to the gym?" she asked, gathering her books as the class started to get up to leave. I shoved my book in my bag, trying not to look up as a certain noirette walked from the class.

I nodded, looking down.

Something touched my shoulder and I looked up, smiling politely at the deep blue eyes.

"Hey Kenny, you OK?"

His face was serious, a look that was foreign to me. I frowned and faced him, giving my full attention.

"Kyle, can I talk to you later? Will you come over to mine?"

I nodded. "Sure, man. Do you wanna talk about it now?"

He shook his head, glancing fleetingly at Bebe and then around the room.

"Nah. Later's good. My place?"

I nodded. Something was weird about his demeanour. But then again it was Kenny, and he thought he was some kind of immortal.

He nodded sharply before fleeing the room. Bebe and I exchanged confused glances before we walked from the room and into the bustling hallway. She hooked her arm through mine and we took our time, talking about the new English assignment. We had to read 'To Kill a Mockingbird' and then write a two thousand word essay on it due after Christmas. Bebe made some kind of joke as we walked into the cafeteria.

It was sad, looking up and not seeing Chef. I always looked for him and was always saddened when he wasn't there. Now I was older, I understood his songs and the 'warning' behind them. He really shouldn't have been telling us about sex at eight, but I still found that whenever I sang his song in my head, I'd laugh and instantly feel better.

Bebe smiled. "What's funny?"

She grabbed a tray and proceeded to join the queue. I shrugged and grabbed my own, looking through the glass counter. I spotted a tasty looking baguette, and thankfully no one took it by the time I got to the serving lady. We picked up our lunch and then looked around for a table. I felt my stomach drop as my eyes drifted towards the familiar table. The three of them were sat there. Cartman was no doubt talking shit and Kenny and Stan were just looking at each other, probably trying not to laugh at the fatass.

I sighed and felt a comforting hand touch my shoulder.

"Come on, honey. Let's sit outside."

I nodded and followed her through the throng people and towards the glass doors leading to a small outside patio. Five benches were out there, and only two were taken. It was bitterly cold today though, but we didn't care, sitting down and starting on our lunches.

"So have you spoken to Nicole?" asked Bebe, shoving a forkful of her salad into her mouth.

I nodded, biting into my baguette. "Yeah, she seems cool."

"Token hasn't even acknowledged my existence."

I swallowed. "Don't let it get to you, Bebe. He was on the rebound as well and Craig told me they were back together. I imagine neither of them want to admit they went on the rebound."

She picked at her salad whilst nodding.

"Yeah I know. Still, a 'hey Bebe, nice fuck' would be nice."

I choked on my soda.

"You really want him to say that? Really?"

I saw the faint hint of red colour her high cheeks as she smirked into her water bottle. She shook her head, making her loose curls bounce.

"I guess not." She sighed. "I dunno. I guess I'm just being stupid."

I reached out and took her hand. In a habit I had recently developed, I brought her knuckles to my lips in comfort.

"Don't be stupid. You've every right to feel like this. It's not as if he tried to make it good, anyway. You can just remember it as the time 'you had black and wanted to go back'."

She gasped and swiped my chest like I thought she would, but she couldn't crush the smile on her lips. I chuckled and took another deep drag on my soda. We finished our lunch in a companionable silence as our own thoughts clouded our minds. I thought about Nicole. Which was weird. From what I could remember, she seemed to enjoy herself. Maybe I really was fooling myself and I was straight.

Then the image of his strong back against my chest filled my mind and despite myself, was accompanied by a _whoosh_ of lust. Nah, I knew who I was. Women were great and all, but men just… they just had something else.

I crushed the wrappers of my lunch in my hands and then offered to take Bebe's empty salad pot before jogging over to the bin. Checking my watch, we still had a good half hour before next class.

"Wanna go for a walk?" I asked, offering her my arm. The blonde smiled and wrapped her arm through mine and then leaning onto my shoulder. We walked around the outside of the school, taking a familiar path that wound around the science department towards the outside basketball court. A few groups of kids were hiding behind the shed just away from the court, and I could see the wisps of smoke hovering above them.

We stepped around a fence and under a small tuft of trees before ducking into the huge gym. Thankfully, it was empty. As we walked across the floor, Bebe began telling me a story about when she was younger. I leant my head against hers and closed my eyes, letting our bodies slowly head towards the stands.

"… but I didn't know that he had already bought the dollies, so I hid it just behind the kitchen sink…"

I smiled, only half listening to her, when another sound made me frown. I heard a deep giggle and shook my head as the intruders knocked something. I sighed. Why did my classmates always come to ruin my peace? Surely there were plenty of closets they could go in to make out?

I felt the body next to me stiffen as she sucked in a quick burst of air.

"Beb…"

Her name died on my lips as I cast my eyes upwards.

As soon as I saw it, I wished that I was dead. Never, in my life, had I ever felt anything like the pain that slammed into my chest. I felt my bones crack. Felt my heart being sliced. The tears welled instantly into my eyes as I stared at them.

_Blond and black, blond and black, good and evil, evil, evil, evil…_

"Kenny," I choked. "How could you?"

Current Day

"Shit! Kyle!"

Stan dropped Kenny's warm hands as his friend dashed from the gym. Bebe was stood like a statue, her eyes locked onto the two boys as their cheeks flamed with shame. He felt the urge to run after the redhead, but he wasn't even sure why. He guessed it had something to do with the look Bebe was giving him.

Stan moved away from his beau, ready to follow his best friend when something grabbed his arm. He looked down, menacingly, at the lithe hand grabbing his bicep surprisingly hard.

"Let go," he hissed, moving to look into those burning brown eyes.

"Leave him alone." Her voice whipped against his skin, shocking him into submission. She eyed him with such deep, heart crushing anger that he felt his cheeks burn.

"He's my best friend… I…" Stan lost his voice.

Bebe's death grip lessened but she continued to stare him down.

"You've done enough."

"Bebe-"

Kenny's words were cut off as her dark eyes turned to the blond. He saw Kenny lower his eyes and put his hands in his pocket. Stan frowned, wondering why Kenny looked so ashamed and Bebe was so angry. There was a weird look that fluttered between the two of them and he couldn't help but feel like he was missing something.

"What… what's wrong?"

Bebe turned to him, but now her chocolate depths held more than anger. They were full of sadness.

"Ask you _boyfriend_," she spat before turning on her heel and storming from the gym.

Stan wanted to throw his hands in the air and shout. An uneasiness had curled itself in the pit of his stomach. There was something in the way Kenny was standing, about the way Bebe had glared, and how Kyle had looked so… broken.

"Ken…?"

The blonde's shoulders slumped and when he raised his eyes to Stan's, the noirette was shocked by the disgrace he saw there. He moved towards his friend and lover, confusion making him desperate. He just wanted to understand. As he touched the pale face, he was shocked to the core to see those sapphire gems spill and a crystal droplet trail down the soft skin.

He pressed himself against Kenny, and the blond wrapped his arms wordlessly around his waist, putting his head against Stan's shoulder. Stan rubbed his back, blinking back his confusion. A pounding had begun behind his eyes.

"Kenny… talk to me. What's the matter?"

But the blond only held him closer. Stan didn't say anything else, he just held his lover.

As the bell rang, Kenny raised his head to put his nose against Stan's.

"Stan… please remember something."

Stan frowned but rubbed his nose gently over Kenny's. "Sure."

Kenny closed his eyes and pressed his lips so gently over Stan's that the noirette felt a sliver of fear creep into his veins.

"Remember that I love you."

Stan's body went rigid, but he didn't have a chance to reply as Kenny stepped away from the embrace, grabbed his bag and stormed from the gym.

Stan was left clutching his chest, his mind reeling and his gaze travelling from the left to right in the two directions that his greatest friends had parted, separately.

His hands trembled as he shoved his books into his bag. As he zipped it up, the final bell of the day tolled and he was the first from his seat. He vaguely heard Mr Thomson shout something at him but he didn't listen, charging through the hallway as fast as he could.

He escaped the school and stood at the bottom of the steps.

He stayed there, unmoving, watching as every student spilled from the school. He saw Wendy talking to Nicole, saw Bebe glaring at him, saw Cartman and Clyde, but no Kyle or Kenny.

The fear that had been spreading from his stomach into his gut was now worming its way into his heart. He rubbed his face as the last students milled out of the school. He even stepped back inside and scanned the corridor, praying he would see a pair of emerald eyes. Something was so very, very wrong.

Stan turned his direction and started down the busy street, ignoring all that called to him.

He walked with a purpose towards a tall, deep green house. He couldn't hold back his desperation as he rapped hard on the door. When it wasn't immediately flung open, he rapped again, harder.

"Alright! Jesus…" he vaguely heard Ike swear under his breath before he was face-to-face with the little emo.

"What?"

"Ike, is Kyle here?"

The dark eyed boy blinked at him once, unimpressed. Stan couldn't help but see how much the boy had changed. And even though he was adopted, his eyes were nearly the same colour as Kyle's.

"No."

The boy began to close the door but Stan was having none of it, pushing it open with all his strength. He ignored the boy's protests as he stormed up the stairs and through the familiar doorway, finally bursting into Kyle's room –

Only to find it empty.

"Told you," huffed Ike behind him. He span on his heel and grabbed the boy by his shirt. He cried out before his green eyes went wide.

"S – Stan, you're hurting me…"

"Tell me where he is, dammit!"

Ike spluttered as Stan shook him. "I – I don't know! Probably at Bebe's house!"

Stan dropped the boy and stormed from the room without looking back. He slammed the front door shut behind him and sped with purpose down the hill and around the corner before he stood outside a peach coloured house. When he wrapped on the door, he had to hold back his rage. His hands were trembling as he listened to the footsteps approaching the door.

He was a greeted with a glare.

"Bebe, look, I don't know what the fuck your problem is and, really, I don't care. Just let me talk to Kyle."

She crossed her arms over her huge chest.

"He's not here."

Stan clenched his fists so tightly that he felt his nails dig into his skin. It was taking everything in him not to throw up. The pain in his stomach was getting worse and his mind was reeling.

"Do you know where he is?"

She shook her head. He noticed that her stance had changed as she studied him. As she opened her mouth to say something, he cut her off with a murderous glare.

As he stormed away, he searched his mind for places that Kyle would go. He found himself walking to and fro, knocking on their classmates' doors. He rang Kyle's house again and Ike had promptly informed him that Kyle still wasn't in, and had a very colourful place where he could shove himself. Stan even found himself wondering to Cartman's house.

Even the fatass hadn't seen him.

As the sun began to sink, Stan had to stop on the sidewalk and take a few deep breaths. He dialled Kyle's number again but it went straight to voicemail.

"Fuck, Kyle… where are you?"

He made his way slowly to their old favourite spots. Over to Stark's Pond, around to the Wall-Mart parking lot. As the night settled over South Park, Stan felt tears prickling his eyes. He found himself walking towards the school. As the building got bigger and bigger, something started to niggle at the back of his mind. He closed his eyes and replayed that afternoon in his mind.

Kyle had taken off through the back of the gym. The back of the gym lead out to the open courtyard and to the supply shed. Then the fence that surrounded the school before leading off to the outskirts of the town.

He took off at a jog, wounding across the school grounds until his hands were clutching the wired gate that surrounded the court. Trees lined the back of the court and he made his way through the dense undergrowth.

If Kyle hadn't gone back to the town, maybe he had walked through the forest. He could be making his way around past Hell's Pass and… where? Where would he go?

As the trees closed in on him and darkness obscured his vision, Stan felt the pit in his stomach deepen. A shiver came over him and his breath clouded around his face. He held out his hands, using the rough trunks for support as he continued hopelessly through the forest. He took small steps and gasped as his foot hooked under a root. He yelped and reached out, crashing awkwardly against a tree.

His breathing was deep as he steadied himself.

"Okay…" he breathed, attempting to calm his racing heart. "Just breathe… breathe…"

The icy night air was settling on his skin, and the patches of snow on his clothes were beginning to melt from his body-heat. Stan tried not to think as he let his breathing return to a normal rhythm, and his eyes adjust to the night.

If he got lost now, he would be completely fucked. He needed a clear head.

Only then, when the hysteria in his chest had been pushed significantly downward and his eyes could pick up enough of his surroundings, did Stan look down. He looked down to make sure that he wouldn't trip over the same root again, only for his brain to tell him that what he was facing was not, in fact, a tree root.

It was trying to tell him that what he was looking at was indeed the silhouette of a body. A small, unmoving body. A small, unmoving, pale body. With a green hat.

"K… Kyle?"


End file.
